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NUMBER  48 

OCCASIONAL    PAPERS 

ENGINEER    SCHOOL 

UNITED    STATES    ARMY 


$arratfbe  of  ttje  jHarcl)  of  Co*  a,  (Engineers! 

from  jfort  ILeabentoorti),  itansas,  to 

jfort  38 rf tiger,  ®tai),  anti  Return 


<5   TO  OCTOBER  3,  1858 


A  Contribution  to  the  History  of  the  United  States 
Corps  of  Engineers 


By 


WILLIAM   P.  SEVILLE 

Artificer  in  the  Company  during  the  March 

Captain,  First  Delaware  Volunteer  Infantry 

in  the  Civil  War 


Revised  under  the  Direction  of  the 
Commandant  Engineer  School,  United  States  Army 


By 


First  Lieut.  JOHN  W.  N.  SCHULZ 

Corps  of  Engineers 


WASHINGTON  BARRACKS,  D.  C. 

PRESS    OF    THE    ENGINEER    SCHOOL 

1912 


\ 


NUMBER  48 

OCCASIONAL    PAPERS 

ENGINEER    SCHOOL 

UNITED    STATES    ARMY 


$arrattbe  of  ti)e  jWarci)  of  Co.  a,  engineers 

from  jfort  3Leabentoort!),$tansas,  to 

jfort  38rttijjer,5itai),anti  Return 


MAY  6   TO  OCTOBER  J,  1858 


A  Contribution  to  the  History  of  the  United  States 
Corps  of  Engineers 


By 


WILLIAM   P.  SEVILLE 

Artificer  in  the  Company  during  the  March 

Captain,  First  Delaware  Volunteer  Infantry 

in  the  Civil  War 


Revised  under  the  Direction  of  the 
Commandant  Engineer  School,  United  States  Army 


By 


First  Lieut.  JOHN  W.  N.  SCHULZ 
Corps  of  Engineers 


WASHINGTON  BARRACKS,  D.  C. 

PRESS    OF    THE    ENGINEER    SCHOOL 
1912 


Sntroiwctorp  ffcote 

By  GILBERT  THOMPSON 

In  the  spring  of  1858,  when  the  Government  met  with  opposition  from  the 
Mormon  community,  in  relation  to  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Cummings  as  Gov- 
ernor of  the  Territory,  and  Brigham  Young 's  corps  of  Danites  was  being  re- 
cruited and  drilled  for  active  service,  it  was  decided  that  a  military  force 
should  be  sent  to  the  seat  of  the  trouble  to  maintain  the  National  authority. 
The  expedition  numbered  several  thousand  men — cavalry,  artillery,  and  in- 
fantry. 

As  the  grass  along  what  was  known  as  the  "Emigrant  Route"  had  been 
almost  entirely  consumed  by  the  numerous  mule  and  ox-trains  which  had 
passed  over  the  Plains  during  the  preceding  year,  it  was  found  necessary  to 
make  a  new  road,  from  the  Platte  River  to  the  Green,  over  which  the  Army 
could  march. 

To  perform  this  duty  with  sufficient  speed  to  avoid  delaying  the  advancing 
columns,  sixty-four  selected  men,  under  First  Lieut.  James  C.  Duane  and 
Second  Lieut.  Edward  P.  Alexander,  were  taken  from  Company  A,  United 
States  Engineers,  then  stationed  at  the  Military  Academy  at  West  Point,  N.  Y. 
Leaving  a  detachment  at  West  Point,  the  Company  started  on  this  service 
March  31st,  1858,  going  by  rail  and  steamboat  as  far  as  Fort  Leavenworth, 
Kans.  Here  it  remained  in  barracks  until  fully  equipped  to  encounter  the 
vicissitudes  of  the  Western  Plains.  The  march  to  Utah,  proper,  was  begun 
the  6th  of  May,  1858. 


$arrattbe  of  tfje 


6  (Thursday).  With  bright  anticipations  of  beholding  many 
a  novel  and  interesting  scene,  and  with  high  expectations  of  enjoy- 
ing the  new  and  eventful  life  which  was  about  to  open  before  us, 
we  left  Fort  Leavenworth  behind  on  the  6th  day  of  May,  1858. 
Before  us  lay  a  long  march — twelve  hundred  miles,  we  were  told— 
across  a  wild,  and,  except  for  the  first  two  hundred  miles,  a  desert 
and  uninhabited  country. 

Eight  wagons,  each  drawn  by  six  sturdy  mules,  drove  up  in 
front  of  our  quarters,  and,  after  receiving  their  baggage,  started 
for  the  first  camping  ground  at  Salt  Creek,  a  distance  of  about 
four  miles.  The  wagons  were  accompanied  by  a  detachment  to 
serve  as  escort  and  to  pitch  the  tents. 

The  remainder  of  the  Company  followed  an  hour  or  two  later,  in 
heavy  marching  order.  Exqept  for  the  observance  of  discipline, 
and  the  order  of  our  marching,  no  one  would  have  supposed  us  to 
be  an  organized  portion  of  the  United  States  Army.  We  each 
wore -a  white  felt  hat  and  a  gray  or  blue  woolen  blouse,  or  hunting 
shirt.  There  were  belt,  bayonet,  haversack,  canteen,  pistol,  a  large 
clasp  knife — all  surmounted  by  knapsack  and  rifle.  To  we  Eastern 
soldiers  this  tout  ensemble  seemed  ludicrous  enough. 

We  pitched  our  first  camp,  manifesting  considerable  delicacy 
about  taking  our  meals  al  fresco,  and  being  very  particular  to 
select  the  driest  and  softest  spots  on  which  to  make  our  beds. 

May  7  (Friday).  Reveille  was  at  an  early  hour.  We  stowed 
our  cumbrous  knapsacks  with  the  rest  of  the  baggage  in  the  wagons, 
and  then  set  out  on  our  march  with  lighter  bodies  and  gayer 
hearts.  The  day's  journey  was  only  sixteen  miles,  but  the  roads 
were  in  poor  condition  from  the  breaking  up  of  winter,  and  to  us, 
unaccustomed  to  continuous  marching,  it  seemed  an  endless  dis- 
tance. Several  times  during  the  day  we  were  obliged  to  turn 
ourselves  into  mules,  and  assist  in  pulling  the  wagons  out  of  mud 
holes.  The  night's  camp  was  at  Oak  Grove. 

May  8  (Saturday).  The  next  day  we  went  as  far  as  Eavine 

l 


2 

Spring,  six  miles.  We  made  but  a  short  march,  owing  to  the 
miserable  condition  of  the  roads. 

May  9  (Sunday).  On  the  9th,  although  Sunday,  we  made  a 
long  march,  as  we  expected  to  overtake  our  provision  train,  which 
was  some  distance  in  advance  of  us.  We  failed  in  the  under- 
taking, however,  although  marching  twenty-one  miles. 

Where  we  were  encamped,  that  night,  on  the  Second  Branch  of 
Grasshopper  Creek,  we  could  distinctly  hear  the  hungry  howl  of 
the  prairie  wolf,  a  new  and  amusing  music  to  us. 

May  10  (Monday).  The  first  day  of  the  new  week,  Monday,  the 
10th,  we  trudged  our  weary  way  over  twelve  and  three-quarter 
miles  of  muddy,  dreary,  rolling  prairie,  and  encamped  on  Walnut 
Creek.  Here  we  discovered  the  commissary  train  (of  which  we 
have  been  in  search),  consisting  of  about  a  hundred  and  forty 
wagons. 

May  11  (Tuesday).  Tuesday,  the  llth,  we  remained  at  Walnut 
Creek,  in  order  to  better  the  crossing  of  the  creek  and  to  consoli- 
date the  whole  command.  Four  companies  of  the  Sixth  Infantry 
(Companies  G,  A,  D,  and  K)  came  up  in  the  morning,  and  the 
men  looked  on  while  we  cut  away  the  banks  of  the  stream  and 
prepared  brush  to  throw  into  the  soft  places.  In  the  afternoon, 
all  crossed  the  creek  and  camped  together  on  the  far  side. 

May  12  (Wednesday).  We  marched  sixteen  miles,  camping  four 
miles  beyond  Oak  Point.  This  was  the  first  day  the  whole  com- 
mand marched  together,  and  it  was  plainly  evident  that  the  crack 
marching  regiment  was  making  strong  efforts  to  fill  our  sick  list 
by  fast  marching.  We  attributed  the  attempt  to  outmarch  us  to 
their  ignorance  of  the  spirit  and  personnel  that  made  up  Co.  A, 
Engineers. 

May  13  (Thursday).  We  went  six  miles  beyond  the  Fourth 
Branch  of  Grasshopper  Creek,  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles.  We 
had  tattoo  a  little  after  sunset,  in  order  to  allow  a  long  rest  to 
those  who  wished  it. 

May  14  (Friday).  We  reached  Vermilion  Creek,  after  a  very 
disagreeable  march  of  twenty-one  miles.  The  air  was  raw  and 
cold,  and  most  of  the  day  a  cold  wind  blew  directly  in  our  faces. 
The  roads  were  deeply  cut  with  ruts,  and  the  grass  was  filled  with 
water.  The  Sixth  was  ahead  at  the  beginning,  but  we  passed 
them  on  the  march ;  and  although  they  tried  once  or  twice  to  re- 
gain their  position,  they  failed  to  do  so. 

May  15    (Saturday).  Another  cold  day.     We  marched  twenty 


miles,  to  the  Big  Blue  River.  Overcoats  were  worn,  and  we  were 
glad  to  keep  our  hands  in  our  pockets.  About  11  a.  in.  we  were 
treated  to  a  heavy  hailstorm,  the  stones  coming  rattling  about  our 
ears  as  large  as  marbles. 

There  is  a  ghost  of  a  village  here,  which  the  residents  have  the 
presumption  to  call  ''Palmetto  City."  It  consists  of  a  blacksmith 
shop,  a  tavern,  two  stores,  and  five  or  six  log  houses ;  and  boasts  of 
a  weekly  paper,  just  large  enough  to  make  a  good  cigar-lighter. 
Sugar  crackers  sell  at  35  cents  per  pound,  and  whiskey,  of  doubt- 
ful* quality,  at  75  cents  per  quart. 

May  16  (Sunday).  A  day  of  rest  for  everybody  except  us.  It 
rained  all  day.  The  Infantry  lay  in  their  tents  and  watched  the 
Engineers  at  work  with  pick  and  shovel.  We  went  to  the  river 
crossing,  and  employed  the  old  remedy,  brush  and  digging,  to 
make  it  passable.  After  returning  to  camp  we  were  each  treated 
to  a  gill  of  whiskey,  which,  we  were  informed,  it  was  a  part  of  our 
duty  to  drink.  Some  of  the  men  brought  wood  and  made  a  large 
camp  fire,  and  stood  by  it  to  dry  themselves  in  the  rain. 

May  17  (Monday).  The  next  day  we  resumed  our  march,  and 
encamped  at  Cottonwood  Creek,  only  eleven  and  three-quarter 
miles  from  the  Big  Blue. 

May  18  (Tuesday).  We  went  on  to  Turkey  Creek,  twenty-one 
and  three-quarter  miles.  It  was  quite  a  warm  day,  and  several 
of  the  men  had  recourse  to  the  wagons,  on  account  of  lameness. 
Some  wolves  were  seen  prowling  about  during  the  march.  Lieu- 
tenant Alexander  fired  at  one  or  two,  but  the  distance  was  such, 
apparently,  that  the  animals  were  only  amused  by  the  whistling 
of  the  bullets.  Part  of  the  Company  repaired  the  crossing  of  the 
creek  this  evening. 

May  19  (Wednesday).  The  waters  of  Big  Sandy  Creek,  which 
we  reached  the  next  day,  after  a  march  of  twenty-one  and  a  half 
miles,  were  very  limpid,  an  unusual  thing  in  this  country.  We 
nearly  all  took  a  wash. 

May  20  (Thursday).  We  encamped  at  a  place  called  "West 
Point  on  Blue  River,"  after  a  march  of  nineteen  and  three-quar- 
ter miles.  Considerable  game  was  within  sight  to-day,  among 
which  were  several  antelopes.  Attempts  were  made  to  capture 
some,  but  we  only  succeeded  in  bringing  a  wolf  into  camp. 

May  21  (Friday).  We  went  to  the  Little  Blue  River,  twenty- 
one  and  three-quarter  miles.  The  heat  to-day  was  very  great. 
The  perspiration  oozed  at  every  pore — and  the  dust  collected  on 


our  faces  and  in  our  eyes,  filled  our  noses,  and  encrusted  our  lips. 
Lieutenant  Alexander  and  Sergeant  Pierce  saw  some  buffaloes,  and 
went  out  to  shoot  one ;  but,  provokingly  enough,  some  mischievous 
Puck  was  officious  enough  to  turn  them  into  oxen  just  in  time  to 
disappoint  the  hunters  and  to  save  the  lives  of  the  animals. 

May  22  (Saturday).  We  went  as  far  as  Little  Blue  Valley, 
twenty-one  and  a  third  miles.  We  overtook  an  ox-train  bound  for 
Salt  Lake,  and  a  difficulty  arose  concerning  our  passing  them.  The 
place  was  such  that  we  could  not  turn  out  of  the  road  to  pass,  and 
those  in  charge  of  the  train  did  not  seem  inclined  to  hurry  to  a 
point  where  we  could  pass.  Argument  was  of  no  avail,  and  con- 
sequently we  came  into  collision.  The  battle  was  to  the  strong — 
the  quick,  furious  plunges  of  the  mules  proving  too  much  for  the 
sluggish  pulling  of  the  oxen.  One  of  our  wagons  got  through, 
and  then,  by  driving  the  leaders'  noses  against  the  tailboards  of 
the  preceding  wagons,  all  our  train  made  its  passage  through. 
One  of  the  teamsters  of  the  ox-train  gazed  with  wild  astonishment 
at  our  harmless  forge,  and  asked  at  last,  "Are  you  going  to  take 
only  one  cannon  with  you?" 

May  23  (Sunday).  This  turned  out  to  be  another  day  of  rest — 
and,  as  nothing  could  be  found  for  us  to  do,  we  had  our  share  in 
it,  too. 

Last  night  we  were  all  awakened  by  the  fury  of  a  severe  thunder 
storm.  The  rain  fell  in  torrents,  and  a  little  of  it  made  its  way 
into  the  tents.  The  wind  blew  a  perfect  tornado.  As  we  ex- 
pected every  minute  to  be  without  a  roof  over  our  heads,  and 
could  do  nothing  to  avert  the  danger,  we  did  the  next  best  thing — 
sat  down  and  smoked  our  pipes.  The  lightning  was  blinding,  and 
the  flashes  followed  each  other  in  constant  succession.  The  loud 
thunder  rattled  everything  movable  around  us.  But  the  storm 
was  too  violent  to  last,  and  before  our  pipes  were  out  we  saw  the 
full  moon  in  the  sky,  and  the  lunar-bow. 

May  24  (Monday).  Last  night  we  were  favored  with  act  two  of 
the  play  begun  the  night  before.  The  wind,  hail,  and  rain  raged 
with  a  fury  not  a  whit  less  severe,  but  again  no  damage  was  done. 

We  marched  to  the  Second  Crossing  of  Elm  Creek,  seventeen 
and  a  third  miles.  The  effect  of  the  storm  was  to  render  our 
marching  less  comfortable,  the  roads  being  very  muddy  and  the 
grass  dripping  with  water,  so  that  we  were  soon  wet  and  muddy 
up  to  our  knees.  We  came  across  a  couple  of  emigrants,  near  the 
close  of  our  march. 


May  25  (Tuesday).  This  day  brought  us  to  the  valley  of  the 
Platte  River,  after  a  march  of  eighteen  miles.  The  valley  is  level, 
and  about  three  miles  in  width,  the  river  winding  along  a  serpen- 
tine course.  The  river  is  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide,  and 
from  two  to  twelve  feet  in  depth,  the  current  being  very  swift  and 
powerful. 

The  day  closed  with  a  sad  accident.  A  supernumerary  team- 
ster of  the  commissary  train,  Thomas  B.  Smith,  of  New  Jersey, 
went  in  bathing,  took  cramps,  and  was  carried  away  by  a  relentless 
current  to  a  watery  grave.  Fruitless  efforts  were  made  to  recover 
the  body. 

A  grave  was  seen  as  we  descended  into  the  valley ;  a  lonely  record 
of  sanguine  expectations  and  frustrated  hopes.  A  board  at  the 
head  bore  the  inscription,  "Miss  Susan  G.  Hale,  Mormon;  Died 
1852,  Aged  24  years." 

Here  first  commenced  the  work  of  gathering  buffalo  chips  for 
fuel.  We  engaged  in  the  duty  somewhat  reluctantly,  softening 
the  unpleasantness  of  it  by  laughing  at  each  other. 

May  26  (Wednesday).  We  reached  the  long-looked- for  Fort 
Kearney,  marching  thirteen  and  a  third  miles.  Our  course  lay 
along  the  valley,  and  the  Fort  was  in  sight  throughout  the  march. 
It  first  consisted  only  of  a  chimney  and  a  flag- pole,  but  every  mile 
added  something  to  it.  A  large  house,  we  found,  was  attached  to 
the  chimney,  and  a  flag  to  the  pole,  and  at  last  the  place  grew  into 
several  extensive-  buildings,  flanked  about  by  adobe  houses.  In- 
habitants :  Infantry  and  washerwomen.  Goods  for  sale :  buffalo 
skins  and  whiskey.  Game :  buffaloes  and  wolves.  Products :  prairie 
grass  and  cacti.  Water  very  poor. 

A  mail  was  distributed  among  us,  and  the  happy  recipients 
sought  shady  nooks  in  which  to  have  a  chat  with  some  loved  one, 
or  perhaps  to  battle  with  wind  and  sand  in  trying  to  reply  to 
the  epistles  received. 

May  27  (Thursday).  We  remained  in  camp  on  account  of  about 
fifty  teamsters  of  the  commissary  train  striking  for  nigher  wages. 
They  were  marched  away  from  the  camp,  bag  and  baggage,  with 
the  guard  at  their  rear  at  charge  bayonets.  The  delay  was  rather 
fortunate,  however,  as  it  gave  an  opportunity,  both  to  us  and  the 
mules,  to  recuperate  from  the  wear  and  tear  of  the  march. 

May  28  (Friday).  We  left  Fort  Kearney  behind,  but  made  only 
ten  and  a  half  miles,  none  of  us  being  in  the  long-march  humor. 
The  prairie  was  covered  with  long,  dead  grass,  and  some  careless 


individual  lighted  his  pipe  and  the  prairie  at  the  same  time.  We 
soon  succeeded  in  extinguishing  the  blaze.  But  we  were  not  long 
in  camp  before  we  were  turned  out  by  the  long  roll  to  do  battle 
once  more  with  the  devouring  element ;  this  time  our  weapons  were 
gunny-bags  and  blankets,  and  the  fire  was  soon  thoroughly  beaten 
out. 

The  command  wTas  joined  before  leaving  Fort  Kearney  by  Com- 
panies F  and  I  of  the  Sixth  Infantry.  And  we  left  behind  at  the 
Fort  one  of  our  own  men,  Eobert  Ayres,  suffering  with  inflamma- 
tory rheumatism,  so  that  he  could  have  the  advantage  of  good 
medical  attendance  and  a  comfortable  hospital. 

Somebody  made  a  trade  to-day  whereby  we  lost  our  wall  tents 
and  were  given  bell  tents  instead.  The  wall  tents  were  quite  com- 
fortable, although  too  crowded;  the  bell  tents  are  more  roomy,  but 
less  comfortable. 

May  29  (Saturday).  We  encamped  on  the  Platte  River,  having 
marched  twelve  miles.  Wood  is  so  scarce  that  a  party  had  to  swim 
across  the  river  for  some,  floating  it  back  to  camp. 

May  30  (Sunday).  This  should  have  been  a  day  of  rest.  We 
congratulated  ourselves  on  our  good  luck  in  not  having  to  march, 
as  the  day  was  wet  and  chilly.  But  we  crowed  too  early  in  the 
morning,  for  we  were  all  turned  out  to  procure  wood,  which,  as 
yesterday,  had  to  be  floated  back  from  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river,  after  three  hours'  work  in  a  swamp,  up  to  the  middle  in  mud 
and  water. 

May  31  (Monday).  We  reached  the  crossing  of  Plum  Creek,  a 
distance  of  fifteen  miles.  At  one  time  during  the  march  we  were 
gladdened  by  the  sight  of  a  large  lake,  with  bluffs  and  headlands 
extending  into  it,  arid  with  vessels  sailing  majestically  on  its  calm 
bosom ;  but,  sad  to  relate,  on  nearer  approach  the  lake  turned  into 
a  low  fog,  the  headlands  dwindled  into  the  old,  monotonous  chain 
of  sand- bluffs,  and  the  vessels  metamorphosed  into  three  or  four 
rusty  looking  ox-wagons. 

June  1  (Tuesday).  We  encamped  in  Buffalo  Bog,  so  called  be- 
cause it  is  a  great  trail  for  the  buffaloes.  Our  march  amounted  to 
seventeen  and  a  third  miles.  As  we  came  into  camp  a  herd  of 
buffaloes  was  seen  on  the  neighboring  sand  hills.  The  "Lieutenant 
and  the  Indian  hunters  went  after  them  and  killed  two  or  three, 
bringing  in  the  tongues  and  the  humps,  and  leaving  the  remainder 
for  the  wolves  to  pick. 

We  saw  our  first  real  Indians  to-day.     A  chief  of  the  Sioux  and 


his  squaw  came  into  camp  this  afternoon.  They  were  savage  all 
over — in  their  looks,  dress,  and  conduct ;  and  decidedly  so  in  their 
speech,  which,  however,  they  used  very  sparingly,  talking  to  us  in  a 
sort  of  dignified  pantomime.  The  gist  of  the  conversation  was, 
"Something  to  eat,"  and  no  matter  of  what  we  spoke  they  invari- 
ably began  their  answer  with,  ' '  How !  How ! ' '  and  terminated  with 
*  *  Something  to  eat. "  It  would  have  been  difficult  to  distinguish 
the  chief  from  the  squaw,  they  resembled  each  other  so  closely  in 
•looks  and  dress,  were  it  not  that  the  squaw  never  laughed  until  the 
chief  smiled  nor  opened  her  mouth  to  speak  until  first  spoken  to. 

June  2  (Wednesday).  To-day  brought  us  to  Reedy  Flat,  seven- 
teen and  a  half  miles.  Our  camp  ground  is  level  and  swampy,  and 
full  of  tall  reeds — hence  its  name. 

Two  men  are  now  detailed  each  morning  to  start  an  hour  or  two 
before  the  command,  in  order,  if  possible,  to  shoot  some  game;  but 
owing  to  the  inexperience  of  our  men,  they  rarely  succeed  in  ob- 
taining anything. 

June  3  (Thursday).  We  came  to-day  to  Cottonwood  Spring, 
concluding  a  march  of  seventeen  and  a  third  miles.  After  dark 
the  police  detail  was  obliged  to  turn  out  on  a  wood  hunting  expe- 
dition, in  order  to  procure  fuel  for  breakfast.  The  nearest  wood 
was  at  least  a  mile  from  camp,  and  in  the  search  for  it  there  was 
also,  incidentally,  found  some  whiskey,  which  two  individuals  re- 
tailed from  a  rude  tent  at  the  moderate  price  of  one  dollar  per 
quart. 

June  4  (Friday).  We  went  two  or  three  miles  beyond  O'Fallons 
Bluff,  nineteen  and  a  half  miles  altogether.  A  great  variety  of 
flowers  decked  the  prairie,  and  many  of  us  amused  ourselves  by 
making  bouquets. 

Some  three  or  four  days  ago  Lieutenant  Duane  ga,ve  up  pedes- 
trianism  and  took  to  riding  his  horse. 

June  5  (Saturday).  We  marched  again  to-day  over  a  flowery 
plain:  phlox,  wall  flowers,  bachelor's  buttons,  larkspur,  lilies,  cacti, 
golden  dagger,  snap-dragons,  daisies,  and  forget-me-nots  grew  in 
wild  confusion.  We  covered  eighteen  and  a  half  miles.  The 
weather  was  mild  and  beautiful. 

June  6  (Sunday).  We  did  not  march  to-day,  but  no  rest  was 
vouchsafed  us.  The  company  was  fallen  in  at  fatigue  call  and  di- 
vided into  working  parties — some  roasted  coffee,  some  ground  tools, 
others  mended  tents,  and  the  remainder  forded  the  river  after 
wood. 


June  7  (Monday).  We  were  again  en  route,  and  proceeded  to 
North  Pond,  sixteen  and  a  third  miles.  Three  or  four  successive 
dry  days  have  made  the  road  very  dusty. 

June  8  (Tuesday).  We  came  to  within  four  miles  of  the  "First 
Crossing,"  journeying  nineteen  miles.  A  Sioux  village  was  in 
sight,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  and  we  were  not  long  in 
camp  before  some  thirty  of  the  villagers  paid  us  a  visit,  headed  by 
an  old,  bow-legged  warrior.  They  all  approached  with  extended 
hand,  exclaiming,  "How!  How!" — then  wandered  about  the  camp; 
making  observations  and  taking  anything  they  found  loose,  and 
trading  with  the  men.  They  never  failed  to  be  near  when  any- 
thing like  provisions  was  produced,  and  were  not  at  all  backward 
in  telling  one  they  were  hungry.  We  gave  some  a  little  soup, 
which  they  liked  very  much,  taking  especial  care,  however,  to  avoid 
the  vegetables  which  it  contained.  A  party  of  boys  among  them 
amused  us  by  shooting  down  little  ornaments  with  their  arrows, 
receiving  as  reward  the  ornaments  which  served  as  targets.  They 
also  ran  several  foot  races  with  our  little  drummer  boy,  the  honors 
being  divided.  The  Indians  are  bold  riders,  the  harness  on  their 
horses  consisting  only  of  a  Mexican  bit  and  a  rawhide  bridle.  They 
twist  their  feet  inside  the  horses'  forelegs,  and  the  animals  might 
as  well  try  to  get  rid  of  their  tails  as  of  one  of  these  copper- 
colored  devils. 

This  evening  a  party  of  women  came  over,  with  skins  and  moc- 
casins to  trade.  Some  of  the  younger  ones  were  comely  looking 
maidens.  One  old  squaw,  accompanied  by  two  daughters,  made 
a  trade  with  one  of  the  men,  giving  a  buffalo  robe  for  a  double- 
sized  silk  handkerchief,  blue,  with  red  and  yellow  flowers.  She 
no  sooner  spread  it  to  the  breeze  than  both  daughters  besieged 
her  for  it,  bijt  she  turned  and  ran  with  her  prize,  pursued  by  the 
two  damsels. 

June  9  (Wednesday).  We  made  a  march  of  seventeen  and  a 
quarter  miles,  to  the  crossing  of  the  South  Fork  of  the  Platte 
River.  It  was  very  warm  during  the  morning,  and  the  soles  of  our 
shoes  became  very  smooth  from  marching  through  the  dead  grass. 
At  noon,  though,  it  commenced  raining,  and  continued  to  do  so  all 
afternoon  and  evening.  After  arriving  at  our  camp  ground  we 
had  to  wait  nearly  an  hour  for  the  train,  which  through  some 
cause  had  been  detained.  We  kindled  a  fire  and  crowded  around 
it,  three  or  four  deep. 

The  Lieutenant,  Dwyer  (the  wagon- master),  and  two  or  three 


other  men  mounted  mules  last  night,  took  a  day's  provisions,  and 
started  up  the  river  to  seek  the  crossing  here.  Finding  it,  they 
spent  the  night  with  the  old  Cheyenne  chief,  Spotted  Tail,  who  had 
two  or  three  wigwams  at  the  crossing.  They  were  entertained  in 
a  distinguished  manner  by  his  dusky  highness,  returning  in  the 
morning  to  the  command.  But  as  soon  as  our  train  came  within 
sight  to-day  the  old  Chief  pulled  up  his  stakes  and  "vamoosed  the 
ranch." 

June  10  (Thursday).  We  remained  in  camp,  as  it  was  a  raw, 
wet,  chilly  day ;  little  was  done  except  to  sleep.  The  Colonel  wishes 
a  warm  day  for  the  crossing. 

June  11  (Friday).  The  day  being  no  better  than  yesterday,  and 
there  being  no  prospect  of  improvement,  we  commenced  the  long- 
dreaded  crossing.  Lieutenant  Alexander  divested  himself  of  all 
clothing,  except  his  shirt  and  drawers,  and  entered,  leading  his 
horse.  We  speedily  stripped  ourselves,  carrying  our  belts  and 
haversacks  around  our  necks,  our  clothes  in  a  bundle  on  the  ends 
of  our  rifles.  Every  two  good  swimmers  taking  between  them  one 
of  those  ignorant  of  the  now  useful  art,  we  trusted  ourselves  to  the 
mercy  of  the  chilling,  madly  rushing  current.  The  water  was 
high,  and  as  cold  as  ice.  It  required  as  much  strength  as  we  could 
muster  to  gain  a  step  against  the  current,  and  the  sharp  stones  on 
the  bottom  cut  our  feet  painfully,  till  our  legs  and  feet  became  so 
benumbed  with  cold  as  to  be  insensible  to  ^further  pain.  As  we 
made  a  step  forward,  when  the  water  was  but  a  foot  or  two  deep, 
we  would  sink  unexpectedly  to  the  middle,  and  probably  the  next 
step  would  take  us  in  to  the  arm-pits ;  then  the  water  would  obtain 
such  a  force  against  the  body  that  it  required  almost  superhuman 
efforts  to  keep  an  upright  position.  We  became  dizzy  from  the 
rapid  current  before  getting  half  way  across,  and  by  the  time  the 
opposite  shore  was  reached  most  of  us  were  pretty  well  exhausted. 
One  man,  Artificer  James  R.  Kelly,  was  swept  off  his  feet,  but 
luckily  enough  I  was  able  to  catch  hold  of  him  and  bring  him 
ashore. 

Our  train,  while  we  were  crossing,  started  off  in  a  stampede,  and 
we  had  the  pleasure  of  being  on  one  side  of  the  stream  and  seeing 
our  wagons  carried  away  over  hill  and  valley,  in  every  direction,  on 
the  other.  Fortunately,  the  mules  were  safely  brought  back,  al- 
though a  little  blown;  after  they  were  all  securely  landed  on  our 
side  of  the  river  they  were  the  meekest  and  most  humble  congre- 
gation of  mules  I  have  ever  seen. 


10 

After  we  pitched .  our  tents  each  received  a  gill  of  whiskey. 
Upon  inspection,  the  losses  of  the  day  were  found  to  be  one  linch- 
pin and  one  pair  of  pantaloons. 

June  12  (Saturday).  We  went  as  far  as  Rattlesnake  Hill,  eigh- 
teen and  an  eighth  miles.  Several  rattlesnakes  were  seen  during 
the  march,  and  once  or  twice  our  men  came  near  treading  on  them, 
but  they  escaped  us  by  getting  into  their  holes,  or  we  escaped  them 
by  getting  out  of  their  way.  The  rear  guard  killed  one  or  two. 

We  left  the  old  road  in  the  morning  and  took  Bryans.  After 
about  two  hours'  march  we  reached  Lodge  Pole  Creek  and  forded 
it,  our  course  then  lying  through  the  valley  of  the  creek.  There 
was  good  grass  all  through  the  valley,  and  myriads  of  flowers,  but 
no  wood.  We  were  obliged  to  burn  buffalo  chips. 

June  13  (Sunday).  We  marched  to-day,  as  the  Colonel  wishes 
to  get  to  a  pine  country  about  a  hundred  miles  ahead.  We  went 
nineteen  and  three-quarter  miles,  this  being  the  second  camp  on 
Lodge  Pole  Creek. 

An  order  was  published  prohibiting  dogs  running  at  large,  either 
on  the  march,  at  a  halt,  or  in  camp — hard  on  the  canines,  but  they 
find  no  sympathy.  Two  other  orders  were  published,  one  obliging 
the  sick  to  attend  all  roll  calls — no  man  has  a  right  to  be  sick  on  a 
campaign ! — the  other  stating  that  the  Company  should  fall  in  at 
reveille  under  arms,  so  that  on  days  when  we  do  not  march  our 
weapons  may  remain  stacked  outside,  to  give  the  rain  a  chance  to 
wash  them  and  to  allow  the  sun  to  better  season  the  stocks. 

June  14  (Monday).  We  inarched  nineteen  miles  along  Lodge 
Pole  Creek,  the  valley  of  which  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  por- 
tions of  this  country,  requiring  only  the  presence  of  trees  to  make 
it  perfectly  charming.  Two  chains  of  sand-bluffs  skirt  the  valley, 
one  on  either  side,  and,  toward  the  close  ,of  our  march  these  bluffs 
began  to  assume  a  rocky  appearance. 

A  curious  and  interesting  novelty  was  seen  by  us  to-day,  an 
Indian  dead  lodge.  It  was  a  wigwam,  built  in  the  usual  manner, 
the  poles  covered  with  buffalo  hides,  hair  side  in,  and  the  opening 
of  the  lodge  sewed  shut  with  rawhide  thongs.  A  pole  was  planted 
in  the  center  of  the  tent  and  projected  through  the  covering,  about 
eight  feet  higher  than  the  door ;  to  the  pole  was  suspended  the  dis- 
tinguishing badge  of  the  chief  buried  within,  composed  of  painted 
eagle  feathers,  ornamented  in  a  very  neat  manner  with  horsehair 
and  beads.  The  ground  around  the  lodge  was  ditched,  and  the 
sods  piled  around  the  bottom  of  the  skins.  About  ten  feet  from 


11 

the  lodge,  in  front  of  the  door,  was  a  square  patch  of  earth,  dug 
up  and  carefully  smoothed,  and  behind  it  a  small  mound  of  earth 
and  sods,  on  top  of  which  were  placed  two  buffalo  skulls,  bleached 
white  with  the  rains;  they  were  arranged  facing  the  lodge,  as  like 
two  silent  sentinels  watching  the  repose  of  the  dead,  and  the  fore- 
head of  each  bore  ten  red  stripes,  signifying  that  the  defunct  digni- 
tary had  borne  his  share  of  the  perils  of  ten  war-paths. 

Although  our  curiosity  was  under  the  reins  of  respect  for  the 
deceased,  yet  we  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  getting  just  a 
peep  at  the  internal  arrangements ;  drawing  one  or  two  pegs  from 
the  bottom  of  the  skins,  we  bent  our  straining  vision  into  the 
solemn  depth  of  darkness  that  reigned  within.  Needless  to  say, 
the  olfactory  nerves  were  first  gratified,  but  as  our  eyes  became 
accustomed  to  the  uncertain  light  we  could  discern  a  shapeless 
mass,  elevated  upon  crotched  poles,  and  lying  upon  a  bed  of  twigs, 
closely  wrapped  in  skins.  From  the  poles  were  suspended  the 
quiver  of  arrows,  the  bow,  the  tomahawk,  the  pipe,  and  the  ammu- 
nition pouches  of  the  deceased.  We  carefully  closed  the  lodge  and 
left  the  dead  to  his  solitude. 

But,  sad  to  relate,  when  our  train  had  passed,  not  only  the 
curiosity  of  some  of  the  men  was  excited,  but  their  cupidity  also ; 
in  less  than  five  minutes  the  before  sacred  resting  place  was,  by 
heartless  and  relentless  hands,  left  in  desolate  ruin. 

June  15  (Tuesday).  We  did  not  march  to-day,  on  account  of  an 
express  being  sent  to  Fort  Laramie,  about  fifty  miles  from  here,  to 
ascertain  if  any  orders  are  there  for  the  command,  to  carry  our 
mail  matter,  and  to  procure  a  guide  to  pilot  us  from  Bridgers  Pass 
to  Fort  Bridger."  Having  found  that  pine  wood  is  available,  a 
wagon  was  sent  out,  with  a  detail  of  men,  to  cut  and  bring  in  a 
load. 

The  Company  was  indulged  in  the  luxury  of  a  drill  to-day,  and 
notwithstanding  the  uneven  nature  of  the  ground,  and  the  fact  of 
our  having  been  so  long  on  the  march,  our  men  went  through  the 
movements  and  maneuvers  with  remarkable  precision. 

June  16  (Wednesday).  We  took  up  the  march  and  went  on  a 
distance  of  nineteen  and  a  half  miles.  We  encamped  again  on 
Pole  Creek,  which  we  crossed  once  on  the  march.  At  one  point  we 
reached  two  high,  rocky  bluffs,  covered  with  pine  timber,  the  road 
ascending  about  half  way  to  the  top  of  the  bluff  on  the  right  of  the 
valley,  and  forming  sort  of  a  ledge  along  its  almost  precipitous 
side.  Some  large  trees  grew  over  the  road  and  threw  a  shade 


12 

across  it.  On  the  left  of  the  road  was  a  deep  chasm,  in  which, 
about  sixty  feet  below,  ran  the  creek,  thickly  shaded  on  either  side 
by  dense  shrubbery.  This  beautiful  spot  possessed  such  charms  for 
us,  coming  as  we  did  from  the  bleak,  uninteresting  prairie,  that  we 
stopped  to -rest,  and  thought  ourselves  transported  into  the  regions 
of  fairyland1.  But  our  pleasure  was  short-lived,  for  this  oasis  of 
the  wilderness  continued  for  only  a  half-mile,  when  the  country 
again  relapsed  into  the  monotonous  sky  and  prairie,  relieved  only 
by  the  scanty  shrubbery  which  grew  along  the  creek. 

June  17  (Thursday).  We  are  again  encamped  on  Lodge  Pole 
Creek,  our  day's  march  amounting  to  sixteen  and  three-fifths  miles. 
The  valley  was  somewhat  more  rolling  than  usual  to-day.  We 
crossed  many  ravines  and  hills,  and  once  more  crossed  the  creek. 
No  timber  is  within  sight  yet.  Antelopes  are  very  numerous  here, 
but  so  wild  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  kill  any. 

June  18  (Friday).  We  marched  nineteen  and  a  half  miles,  and 
again  encamped  on  Pole  Creek.  A  small  party  of  men  were  de- 
tailed this  morning  to  cut  wood  and  bring  it  to  the  side  of  the 
road  where  the  wagons  could  take  it  up.  About  the  middle  of  the 
march  we  passed  two  more  pine  bluffs,  one  on  each  side  of  the  val- 
ley, and  afterwards  emerged  upon  a  long,  level  plain,  where  we 
came  to  a  full  stop  before  an  ominous  looking  bog.  Two  or  three 
wagons  tried  to  cross ;  but  wagons,  mules  and  all  settled  down  into 
the  soft,  black  mud ;  the  mules  to  their  bodies  and  the  wagons  to  the 
axle-trees.  As  the  mules  could  not  pull  out,  and  the  men  failed 
in  swearing  them  out,  we  were  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  what 
one  of  our  party  termed  "main  strength  and  stupidity."  By  the 
use  of  a  little  force  two  of  the  old  settlers  were  extricated;  the 
other  proved  more  stubborn  in  its  affection  for  "mother  earth," 
and  as  the  mules  sat  down  disconsolately  in  the  mud,  wre  had  to 
send  ahead  for  the  assistance  of  two  or  three  more  teams.  We 
hitched  on  all  the  mules,  and  ourselves  pulled  on  ropes  attached  to 
the  wheels — and  our  labors  and  perseverance  were  finally  re- 
warded with  success. 

When  we  reached  camp  we  found  an  old  guide  named  Duval 
waiting  for  us.  He  was  sent  over  from  Fort  Laramie,  and  had 
been  waiting  a  day  or  two  for  our  appearance.  Duval  'had  shot  a 
fine  buck  antelope,  which  he  presented  to  us,  and  evening  found 
us  busily  engaged  around  our  camp  fires,  cooking  our  steaks. 

June  19  (Saturday).  We  marched  eighteen  and  three-quarter 
miles,  passing  over  a  level  prairie  throughout  the  march.  We 


13 

crossed  the  creek  once  more — AVC  had  the  pleasure  of  crossing  it 
seven  times  yesterday — and  are  encamped  upon  it  again,  also.  As 
we  are  now  rapidly  approaching  its  source  the  creek  is  growing 
quite  shallow,  but  the  water  is,  if  anything,  purer  and  colder. 
Near  the  close  of  the  march  two  or  three  white  clouds  were  on  the 
horizon,  in  front  and  a  little  to  the  left  of  us.  All  the  firmament, 
except  this  one  spot,  was  perfectly  innocent  of  anything  like  a 
cloud,  and  the  objects  themselves  kept  such  a  stubbornly  immov- 
able position  that  we  began  to  doubt  whether  they  were  clouds  after 
all.  As  we  approached  camp  they  changed  their  appearance  not 
in  the  least,  except  that  they  grew  somewhat  larger.  When  we 
were  encamped  a  party  ascended  a  bluff  nearby  and  satisfied  our- 
selves that  we  were  actually  in  sight  of  the  Medicine  Bow  Moun- 
tains. This  was  a  new  and  grand  sight  to  many  of  us.  On  our 
right,  far  in  the  distance,  could  be  descried  a  long  range  of  moun- 
tains, stretching  away  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see.  Compared  with 
the  color  of  the  rolling  prairie,  that  fills  up  the  expanse  between  us 
and  the  mountains,  they  are  a  dusky  black  —  hence  the  name, 
"Black  Hills."  The  appearance  is  owing  to  the  density  of  the 
pine  timber  with  which  the  hills  are  covered. 

Our  men  shot  two  antelopes,  of  which  achievement  we  were  all 
very  proud. 

June  20  (Sunday),  ^e  are  now  nearly  six  hundred  miles  from 
Fort  Leavenworth.  The  day  was  spent  in  domestic  occupations. 
Groups  might  be  seen  sitting  in  the  shade  of  the  wagons,  the  only 
objects  which  here  afford  a  shade,  engaged  in  mending  the  breaches 
in  their  breeches  and  other  clothes.  Others  were  busied  in  the 
laundry  department.  Others,  again,  were  deep  in  the  mazes  of 
correspondence. 

A  most  magnificent  sunset  was  seen  by  us  this  evening.  The 
God  of  Day  was  retiring  from  our  vision,  majestically  robing  him- 
self in  the  dark,  threatening  thunder-clouds  which  were  rapidly 
spreading  over  the  heavens.  The  storm  soon  interposed  its  black 
curtain  between  us  and  the  grand  spectacle,  and  darkness  reigned 
where  before  everything  was  bathed  in  a  flood  of  silvery  light. 

June  21  (Monday).  We  marched  twenty  miles,  and  once  more 
camped  on  Pole  Creek.  Our  whole  course  lay  along  valleys,  so 
that  we  obtained  but  one  view  of  the  mountains. 

Several  more  antelopes  were  shot  to-day.  Either  game  is  get- 
ting more  plentiful,  or  else  we  are  improving  in  the  quality  of  our 


14 

hunters.  The  Infantry  are  very  successful  in  their  hunting  ex- 
cursions. 

June  22  (Tuesday).  We  made  seventeen  miles,  and  encamped 
for  the  last  time  on  Pole  Creek.  The  Chief  Engineer  was  in  a 
short-cut  humor,  when  we  started  out  this  morning,  moved  thereto 
by  the  guide.  We  were  marched  around  three  or  four  bluffs,  fol- 
lowed by  the  entire  command,  train  and  all;  and  this  species  of 
countermarching  gave  rise  to  many  forcible  expressions  of  disap- 
probation. We  soon  found  the  proper  road,  however,  and  started 
anew. 

We  are  encamped  this  evening  within  the  Cheyenne  Pass,  at  the 
foot  of  the  Black  Hills.  When  within  about  four  miles  of  camp  we 
encountered  a  numerous  party  of  Cheyenne  Indians,  who  stood  a 
respectable  distance  from  us  and  surveyed  us  with  great  timidity. 
This  tribe  has  given  the  Government  considerable  trouble  by  its 
hostile  demeanor,  and  it  has  been  but  a  short  time  since  its 
members  were  taught  one  or  two  wholesome  lessons;  hence  their 
caution  in  approaching  United  States  troops.  However,  they  fol- 
lowed us  to  camp,  and,  seeing  nothing  threatening  in  our  behavior, 
gradually  mingled  with  us  and  opened  the  business  of  "swap." 
Before  tattoo  they  became  quite  sociable,  and  some  of  them  enter- 
tained us  by  their  dexterity  with  the  bow  and  arrow,  and  showed 
us  the  leaves  that  they  mix  with  their  tobacco,  to  render  it  milder 
and  to  increase  the  quantity.  We,  in  return,  amused  them  with 
the  curious  workmanship  of  our  Colt's  revolvers  and  showed  them 
the  mechanism  of  a  watch,  which  struck  them  with  amazement. 

A  good  joke  was  circulated  this  morning,  at  the  expense  of  one 
of  the  sons  of  the  * '  Emerald  Isle. ' '  It  appears  he  was  on  post  as  a 
sentinel,  and  the  officer  of  the  day,  visiting  his  post  in  the  early 
hours  of  the  night,  was  promptly  challenged/ ' Who  comes  there?" 
1 1  Officer  of  the  Day, ' '  was  the  answer.  As  that  appeared  to  be  the 
end  of  the  matter,  and  as  the  officer  was  kept  standing,  he  in- 
quired why  the  countersign,  which  was  "Scott,"  was  not  de- 
manded. The  sentinel  replied  that  he  did  not  know  the  counter- 
sign was  the  same  for  both  guards.  "Oh,  yes,"  rejoined  the  officer, 
"the  countersign  is  general  throughout  the  camp."  A  short  time 
after,  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  visited  the  sentinel  and  inquired 
whether  the  officer  of  the  day  had  been  there.  "Yes,  shure,"  said 
Pat,  "and  he  told  me  that  the  countersign  was  'Gineral'  through- 
out the  camp,  and  not  'Scott.'  : 

June  23  (Wednesday).  We  marched  seventeen  miles  to  the  high- 


15 

est  of  the  Black  Hills,  and  then  encamped.  This  has  been  the 
most  interesting  march  we  have  yet  had;  the  road  ran  through 
rich,  luxurious  valleys,  over  high  hills,  through  cuts,  in  deep,  dark 
ravines,  winding  among  immense  rocks  and  boulders  or  burying 
itself  in  the  shady  depths  of  dense  pine  woods.  In  the  valleys  we 
saw,  long,  rich  grass,  decorated  by  countless  millions  of  flowers  and 
wild  rose  bushes  in  full  bloom.  And  upon  the  hills  we  beheld 
curious  specimens  of  nature's  skill  in  carving,  many  fantastic 
figures  among  the  large  sandstone  rocks  furnishing  ample  proof  of 
it.  Here,  too,  might  be  seen  the  unusual  sight  of  wild  flowers,  in 
all  the  glory  of  summer,  elevating  their  gorgeous  heads  above  a 
bed  of  pure  snow.  The  snow  we  considered  such  a  novelty,  it  be- 
ing the  latter  part  of  June,  that  we  indulged  in  a  set-to  with  snow- 
balls. 

From  our  camp  upon  the  summit  a  most  magnificent  view  can 
be  had.  On  one  side  there  is  a  steep  descent  for  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile,  then,  by  crossing  a  stream,  one  ascends  a  very  steep 
mountain,  thickly  covered  with  pines.  As  many  of  the  giants  of 
the  forest  lie  upon  the  ground,  in  decay,  as  are  standing,  and  the 
ground  is  covered  by  decomposed  vegetable  matter  to  a  depth  of 
three  or  four  feet.  On  the  side  from  which  we  came  the  hills  may 
be  seen,  one  below  the  other,  some  red  with  sandstone,  some  white 
with  clay,  some  green  with  grass  and  shrubbery,  and  others  black 
with  pines.  On  the  third  side  rough,  ragged,  toppling  crags  are 
piled,  one  upon  the  other,  in  the  wildest  and  most  picturesque  con- 
fusion. The  fourth  side  is  more  charming,  if  possible,  even  than 
the  others ;  the  whole  immense  valley  stretching  far,  far  away  to  the 
Medicine  Bow  Mountains,  the  Laramie  River  winding  across  it 
Jike  a  silver  thread.  This  was  our  advent  among  the  mountain 
scenery,  and  with  it  we  were  delighted. 

June  24  (Thursday).  We  marched  eight  and  a  half  miles,  de- 
scending the  hills  to  the  Laramie  River,  where  we  were  obliged  to 
make  a  temporary  halt,  this  stream  being  too  rapid  and  deep  to 
ford.  It  was  found  necessary  to  gain  a  crossing  with  our  wits  and 
the  little  paraphernalia  that  could  be  found  in  the  train.  Opera- 
tions were  commenced  by  unloading  some  of  the  wagons  and  in- 
flating five  or  six  of  the  pontons,  or  cylindrical  floats,  all  that  we 
had.  This  done,  we  had  to  get  a  rope  across  the  river.  Tying  a 
sash-cord  to  the  end  of  a  two- inch  rope,  and  enough  twine  to  reach 
across  the  stream  being  tied  to  the  other  end  of  the  cord,  a  volun- 
teer from  the  infantry  swam  over  with  the  end  of  the  twine  in  his 


16 

mouth.  The  rope  was  then  drawn  over,  and  the  tools  were  tied 
to  a  cord,  which  ran  on  the  rope  with  a  slip-knot  and  was  drawn 
over  by  the  twine.  A  strong  pile  was  driven  into  the  ground  and 
the  ferry  rope  made  fast  to  it.  We  then  constructed  a  raft  by 
lashing  the  pontons  together,  holding  them  with  the  wagon  tongues 
and  covering  those  again  with  the  tailboards  for  a  flooring.  Another 
and  heavier  rope,  being  ready  to  send  over,  one  of  our  men, 
Murphy,  taking  the  end  of  the  rope  itself  in  his  mouth,  swam  across 
with  it.  Tackling  was  rigged  with  blocks  on  the  ferry  rope,  and  to 
the  side  of  the  raft,  and  the  raft  made  its  first  passage,  with  signal 
success,  the  current  being  the  motive  power. 

So  transportation  commenced  in  earnest,  a  crew  for  the  raft 
being  selected  from  our  men  and  First  Sergt.  F.  W.  Gerber  taking 
command.  Throughout  the  day  the  voice  of  the  Sergeant  could  be 
heard  above  the  din  and  uproar  of  this  exciting  occasion,  shouting 
in  the  most  impressive  manner,  as  though  implicit  obedience  could 
be  obtained  only  by  unheard  of  severity,  ' '  Haul  away  on  the  bow ! ' ' 
"Shlack  on  de  shtern!"  "  'Way  ?nofe!"  "Fent  off!"  and  similar 
incomprehensible  expressions. 

To-night  we  are  on  one  side  of  the  river  and  the  Infantry  on  the 
other,  our  train  having  been  the  first  to  cross. 

June  25  (Friday).  We  arose  early  in  the  morning  and  resumed 
operations,  the  Company  being  divided  into  parties  and  distributed 
around  wherever  of  the  most  service.  Sergt.  James  E.  Wilson 
took  a  party  of  the  Infantry  and  rigged  up  another  rope  ferry, 
which  did  very  valuable  service  throughout  the  day,  ferrying  over 
the  loads  of  the  wagons,  while  the  wagons  themselves  were  sent 
over  on  the  first  ferry. 

An  attempt  was  made  to  draw  the  wagons  across  the  stream  byN 
a  rope;  one  was  thus  launched,  but  before  it  reached  the  middle  of 
the  river  it  overturned  and  filled.  Only  a  small  portion  of  the 
wagon  was  visible  above  the  water,  and  to  get  it  out  it  was  neces- 
sary to  move  the  rope  from  the  tongue  to  one  of  the  wheels.  Four 
of  our  men  volunteered  for  this  service  (Sergeant  Pierce,  Artificer 
Jordan,  McGill,  and  Pat  Murphy)  and  these  worked  indefatigably 
for  nearly  two  hours,  in  cold  water  about  five  feet  deep,  their 
labors  being  finally  rewarded  with  success. 

Evening  found  us  all  safely  encamped  on  the  west  side  of  the 
Laramie  River. 

June  26  (Saturday).  A  very  beautiful  day.  Every  day  since 
we  have  been  here  the  forenoon  has  been  warm  and  sultry,  but  at 


17 

noon  a  strong  breeze  springs  up  from  the  south  and  continues  until 
sunset,  when  it  ceases. 

The  Company  was  again  divided  into  parties  to-day,  one  bring- 
ing over  the  ropes  and  rigging  upon  the  raft,  and  another  coiling 
the  ropes  and  repacking  the  wagons.  It  required  the  whole  day 
to  get  things  into  marching  order  again,  and  night  finds  us  all  pre- 
pared for  an  early  start  upon  the  morrow. 

Another  metallic  wagon  Avas  added  to  our  train  to-day — the 
Quartermaster,  finding  that  we  can  handle  pontons  with  such 
dexterity,  thought  it  best  to  give  us  the  care  of  them  in  order  to 
facilitate  matters  in  case  of  emergency.  The  Quartermaster  in- 
formed us  that  it  had  been  his  intention  to  treat  the  Company  with 
a  little  of  the  aqua  ardente,  but,  owing  to  so  much  having  been  ex- 
pended, both  lawfully  and  surreptitiously,  during  the  day,  the 
liquor  was  almost  "played  out,"  and  he  could  not  afford  the  con- 
templated treat. 

June  27  (Sunday).  The  Right  Fork  of  the  Laramie  River  was 
reached  and  crossed,  and  we  encamped  upon  the  farther  side,  after 
marching  sixteen  miles.  The  country  passed  over  was  a  level  val- 
ley, almost  barren  of  vegetation;  small  knots  of  sickly  looking 
grass  grew  at  remote  intervals,  and  found  but  a  miserable  support 
among  the  stones  and  sand.  We  soon  came  to  the  fork  of  the  river. 
It  is  here  divided  into  several  streams,  the  first  six  or  seven  being 
somewhat  shallow  and  the  ground  between  soft  and  boggy ;  but  the 
last  two  streams  are  deeper  and  more  rapid,  the  water  exceedingly 
cold,  and  rushing  over  long,  sharp  stones  with  alarming  rapidity. 
We  had  a  great  deal  of  trouble  getting  our  train  across,  every 
team  having  to  be  doubled.  The  shouts  of  the  teamsters,  and  the 
struggles  of  the  mules  in  the  mud  and  water,  could  be  heard  long 
after  darkness  had  settled  upon  the  busy  camp. 

We  beheld  another  concourse  of  Cheyenne  Indians  assembled 
upon  the  hill,  patiently  awaiting  our  arrival.  They  continued 
all  the  afternoon  hanging  about  the  camp,  trying  to  ' '  swap ' '  their 
goods  for  lead  and  powder.  But  very  little  ammunition  could  they 
obtain  from  us;  we  knew  their  hostile,  treacherous  character  too 
well,  and  our  duty  to  the  Government  better.  We  traded  with  the 
Indians  for  moccasins,  rifle- covers,  knives  with  bead-worked  scab- 
bards, etc. 

One  of  the  Indians  espied  a  set  of  artificial  teeth  when  one  of  our 
men,  Horace  Sexton,  laughed,  exposing  the  gold  clasps  as  he  did 
so.  A  group  of  curious  Indians  gathered  about,  peering  into  his 


18 

mouth  and  chattering  to  one  another,  wondering  that  a  white  man 
should  have  gold  teeth.  In  order  to  amuse  them,  Sexton  took  the 
teeth  out  of  his  mouth,  whereupon  the  whole  group  of  redskins 
retreated  from  him  in  terror;  nor  could  they  be  induced  to  ap- 
proach again,  deeming  him  too  familiar  with  black  art  to  feel  safe 
in  his  company. 

One  of  the  non-commissioned  officers,  Sergeant  Gerber,  wished 
to  purchase  a  beautiful  white  pony  that  an  Indian  was  riding.  He 
offered  him  a  handful  of  silver  half  dollars  (the  Indians  are  very 
eager  to  get  hold  of  silver  coins,  out  of  which  they  make  orna- 
ments), but  the  Indian  shook  his  head  in  the  negative.  Some  bis- 
cuits and  red  chalk  were  added  to  the  tempting  pile  of  silver,  but, 
after  some  hesitation,  the  Indian  still  declined  the  "swap."  A 
new  uniform  coat  was  then  offered  also.  This  pleased  the  Indian 
wonderfully;  turning  it  over  and  over,  he  surveyed  it  in  every 
light,  admired  the  yellow  chevrons,  laughed  and  betrayed  great 
eagerness  to  get  possession  of  the  gaudy  garment.  But  looking 
once  more  at  his  faithful  pony,  he  declined  the  bargain.  Sudden- 
ly, a  bright  idea  seemed  to  strike  him — he  wanted  the  coat,  and 
proposed  to  give  the  owner  a  squaw  for  it,  which  generous  offer  was 
of  course  declined,  amid  loud  peals  of  laughter  from  the  by- 
standers. 

A  group  of  Indians  had  gathered  about  the  forge,  gazing  at  it 
with  reverential  awe.  One  of  them,  making  a  quick  motion  of  his 
hands,  out  from  his  body,  and  making  an  explosive  sound  with  his 
breath,  to  represent  the  report  of  a  gun,  exclaimed,  "Smoke  wag- 
on," meaning  a  cannon.  At  this  moment,  Bourcey,  the  black- 
smith, who  was  fitting  on  a  mule's  shoe,  returned  with  the  shoe  at 
the  end  of  the  tongs,  and,  thrusting  it  into  the  fire,  began  blowing 
the  bellows.  It  was  laughable  to  see  the  stampede  among  the  red- 
skins when  they  saw  this  ominous  maneuver — they  thought  he  was 
going  to  fire  the  "smoke  wagon." 

June  28  (Monday).  We  encamped  on  Coopers  Creek,  having 
marched  fourteen  miles.  Our  road  to-day  extended  along  the 
chain  of  mountains,  and  lay  over  a  hard,  gravelly  surface,  thickly 
covered  with  small,  argillaceous  stones.  We  passed  a  pond  this 
morning,  the  shores  of  which  were  encrusted  with  a  white,  cyrstal- 
lized  substance,  which,  upon  inspection,  proved  to  be  magnesia 
and  nitrate  of  soda.  Antelopes  were  seen  in  great  number  during 
the  march,  and  two  were  shot. 

At  the  conclusion  of  our  march  we  suddenly  found  ourselves 


19 

upon  the  brow  of  a  high  hill,  overlooking  a  magnificent  valley 
about  two  miles  in  length  and  a  mile  or  more  in  width.  The 
ground  was  covered  with  rich,  luxuriant  grass,  mingled  with 
patches  of  wild  flowers  of  every  hue.  Two  limpid  mountain 
streams  meandered  across  it,  their  banks  skirted  by  graceful  shrub- 
bery and  noble  trees.  We  encamped  in  this  Eden,  and  the  calm 
peace  that  always  pervades  the  mind  when  amidst  the  quiet  beau- 
ties of  wild  nature  came  upon  us  weary  pilgrims.  The  only  draw- 
back to  this  beautiful  spot  was  the  presence  of  that  little  demon — 
the  mosquito.  These  insects  annoyed  us  excessively;  not  a  mo- 
ment could  we  rest,  but  were  obliged  to  keep  our  bodies  continually 
in  motion,  and  to  burn  tarred  rope  and  buffalo  chips  in  the  tents. 

A  bog  was  discovered  here  which  it  was  thought  would  have  to 
be  crossed  in  the  morning,  so  the  Company  was  turned  out  to  re- 
pair it.  We  were  sent  about  a  mile  to  cut  and  carry  logs  and 
brush ;  but  after  we  had  completed  the  crossing  a  better  and  short- 
er road  was  found,  and  our  labor  amounted  to  nothing  more  than 
a  proof  of  the  powers  of  endurance  of  the  invincible  sixty-four. 

June  29  (Tuesday).  We  marched  thirteen  miles,  to  Medicine 
Bow  Creek.  We  passed  safely  over  four  creeks,  and  were  con- 
gratulating ourselves  upon  our  success  when  we  were  stopped 
short  upon  the  banks  of  Medicine  Bow  or  Rock  Creek.  Here  was 
a  doleful  sight ;  the  creek  was  about  thirty  yards  wide,  with  a  cur- 
rent which  rushed  over  the  large  boulders  on  the  bottom  with  fear- 
ful impetuosity.  Where  it  struck  a  large  rock  the  water  would 
dash  up  to  a  height  of  five  or  six  feet.  A  stone,  weighing  about 
thirty  pounds  was  thrown  in,  and  finally  rested  on  the  bottom 
about  three  yards  downstream  from  where  it  first  touched  the 
water;  and  it  would  not  then  have  stopped  in  its  onward  career 
had  it  not  been  arrested  by  coming  into  contact  with  a  larger  stone 
on  the  bottom. 

All  stood  surveying  these  fearful  rapids,  waiting  to  see  what  the 
first  order  would  be.  It  was  decided  that  the  Engineers  should 
endeavor  to  get  across  and  rig  a  bridge  of  driftwood.  Several  of 
us  instantly  prepared  for  the  undertaking,  a  place  being  selected 
where  the  stream  was  divided  by  rocks  and  drift  into  four  separate 
channels.  The  first  two  were  not  so  swift  as  the  others  and  we 
effected  a  crossing  over  them  quite  safely.  The  next  was  more 
difficult;  several  had  a  very  narrow  escape  in  crossing;  but  many, 
with  the  assistance  of  poles,  succeeded  in  reaching  the  island.  This 
was  separated  from  the  farther  shore  by  a  single  additional  chan- 


20 

nel,  which,  although  narrow,  was  the  most  perilous  of  all.  Three 
or  four  of  the  largest  men  made  their  way  across,  jumping  first 
into  the  stream  as  far  as  they  could,  struggling  as  they  were 
whirled  down  by  the  rushing  current,  and  contriving  at  last  to  get 
hold  of  bushes  on  the  far  bank  and  so  to  drag  themselves  out  of 
the  water.  By  the  aid  of  ropes  we  then  managed  to  get  a  bridge 
of  logs  over  the  most  dangerous  channels,  and  the  Regiment  cross- 
ed with  perfect  safety. 

A  few  rods  below  the  wagons  were  crossing,  and  we  were  sig- 
nally favored  by  Providence  in  getting  everything  over  as  well  as 
we  did,  losing  only  two  mules,  which  were  carried  off  their  feet 
by  the  current  and  instantly  drowned. 

June  30  (Wednesday).  We  went  as  far  as  the  Medicine  Bow 
Butte,  a  distance  of  sixteen  miles.  Our  course  lay  over  the  lower 
bluffs  of  the  Medicine  Bow  Mountains,  ascending  and  descending 
the  many  steep  hills.  The  surface  was  hard  and  gravelly,  and  cov- 
ered with  A\7ild  sage  or  artemisia. 

About  nine  miles  out  we  arrived  at  the  "Devils  Hole,"  a  deep, 
rocky  ravine,  between  the  mountains,  the  almost  precipitous  sides 
of  which  arc  composed  of  loose,  crumbling  rocks.  The  descent 
was  very  steep  and  rough,  requiring  a  great  deal  of  labor  to  make 
it  passable  for  the  wagons.  We  worked  some  time  at  the  stream 
here  to  enable  the  train  to  pass,  and  then  proceeded.  But  we 
were  soon  brought  to  a  standstill  before  another  branch  of  Medi- 
cine Bow  Creek,  divided  into  several  streams,  and  with  the  inter- 
vening ground  swampy  and  covered  with  a  thick  undergrowth  of 
sweetbrier;  cottonwood,  pine,  and  white  poplar  trees  grow  very 
densely  here.  When  we  reached  the  other  side  a  rapid  stream 
presented  itself,  which  we  soon  bridged,  however,  with  the  trunks 
of  trees. 

We  reached  our  camp  ground  quite  late  and  very  much  fatigued 
and  then  prepared  for  muster,  which  took  place  at  five  o'clock. 
The  Company  was  inspected  by  Colonel  Andrews  and  the  Quarter- 
master and  Chief  of  Commissary.  A  large  buck  was  killed  to- 
day, and,  tired  as  we  were,  we  entered  into  the  duties  of  the  culi- 
nary department  with  considerable  alacrity. 

July  1  (Thursday).  We  went  but  three  miles  to  Elk  Creek,  mov- 
ing in  order  to  secure  a  good  camp  ground.  It  is  proposed  to  stay 
here  for  a  few  days,  in  order  to  recuperate  the  mules  and  get  them 
shod,  to  cut  timber  for  building  bridges,  and  to  burn  a  pit  of  char- 
coal— all  preparatory  to  leaving  the  command,  to  commence  our 


21 

duties  as  road  engineers.  We  are  to  go  in  advance,  with  a  work- 
ing party  of  Infantry  accompanying  us,  provisioned  for  twenty- 
eight  days.  Parties  are  detailed  to-day  to  cut  and  bring  in  timber, 
which  is  obtained  about  a  mile  and  a  half  up  the  mountain,  where 
timber  grows  in  abundance:  pine,  juniper,  and  tamarack. 

July  2  (Friday).  The  timber  party  is  still  at  work  to-day,  not- 
withstanding that  it  is  cloudy  and  rainy.  Our  pontons  were  taken 
out  and  overhauled,  and  two  or  three  of  them  were  condemned. 
We  received  six  more  wagons  from  the  Quartermaster,  to  carry 
timber.  Clothing  was  issued  to  all  who  were  in  need  of  it. 

This  evening  our  hunters,  who  were  after  game,  returned  with  a 
young  antelope  and  some  long-eared  hares — we  had,  consequently, 
quite  an  excellent  stew  for  supper. 

July  3  (Saturday).  We  were  off  betimes  upon  our  new  road,  and 
marched  as  far  as  Pass  Creek,  thirteen  miles.  At  the  very  outset 
we  had  three  wagons  obstinately  stuck  in  mud  holes,  requiring  two 
hours,  at  least,  to  get  in  motion  again.  We  cut  brush  and  boughs, 
to  make  a  footing  for  the  mules,  and  tied  ropes  to  the  wheels,  and 
ourselves  joined  in  the  pulling.  In  this  way  we  dragged  out  two  of 
the  wagons,  but  the  other  had  to  be  entirely  unloaded,  the  contents 
being  carried  about  twenty  yards,  through  mud  knee-deep. 

Our  course  ran  through  a  deep  ravine  all  the  way,  and  we  crossed 
four  creeks,  one  of  them  a  very  difficult  one.  The  banks  were 
about  about  five  feet  above  the  water,  and  densely  covered  by 
thorny  bushes.  The  creek  was  too  wide  to  jump,  so  we  were  com- 
pelled, nolens  volens,  to  scratch  our  way  down  through  the  briers 
and  then  wade  to  the  opposite  side,  where  the  scratching  ensued 
again  in  climbing  out.  This  nauseous  smelling  shrub,  the  sage, 
grows  in  great  quantities.  It  makes  our  marching  very  disagree- 
able, being  so  stiff,  gnarled  and  thorny,  growing  sometimes  to  the 
height  of  five  feet  and  the  largest  trunks  measuring  from  eighteen 
to  twenty-two  inches  in  circumference.  Split  and  twisted,  with  a 
strong  appearance  of  dead,  dry  wood,  the  bark  resembles  that  of 
the  cedar,  being  dry  and  shelly. 

The  day  was  exceedingly  sultry  and  oppressive;  the  atmosphere 
was  perfectly  calm,  not  a  leaf  trembling,  and  the  air  seemed  heated 
like  that  of  a  furnace,  causing  an  unpleasant  feeling  of  lassitude 
and  a  difficulty  in  respiration.  The  heat  of  the  day  was  the  more 
strange  from  the  fact  that  ice  was  found  this  morning  three- six- 
teenths of  an  inch  in  thickness. 

July  4  (Sunday).  We  made  one  of  the  most  fatiguing  marches 


22 

of  the  entire  trip,  and  employed  our  minds  in  contrasting  our  cele- 
bration of  the  American  Independence  of  to-day  with  that  of  last 
year.  In  no  very  pleasant  mood,  we  made  a  march  of  fourteen 
and  a  half  miles,  and  encamped  on  the  North  Fork  of  the  Platte 
River.  When  we  arrived  at  the  river  we  found  all  the  bluifs  of 
sandstone,  of  curious  shapes  and  colors,  looking  like  stupendous 
churches  or  other  buildings  in  various  styles  of  architecture,  sur- 
mounted by  lofty  minarets,  turrets,  spires  and  domes.  At  night, 
the  scene  might  easily  be  taken  for  a  city  standing  near  us. 

The  road  all  through  the  march  was  about  six  inches  deep  with 
dust,  and  not  a  green  thing  was  visible  to  cheer  the  aching  eyes,  half 
blinded  by  the  glaring  light  which  was  reflected  by  the  heated  sand 
— not  a  blade  of  grass,  nothing  but  sage,  from  one  end  of  the 
march  to  the  other. 

One  of  our  men  shot  a  sage  hen  near  the  close  of  the  march,  and 
when  we  came  into  camp  we  set  about  to  ascertain  whether  these 
fowls  can  be  made  into  good  food;  a  stew  was  made,  but  the  word 
good  would  be,  I  fear,  a  superfluity. 

This  afternoon  First  Sergeant  Gerber  took  a  party  of  men,  the 
writer  being  one,  and  went  some  few  miles  up  the  river,  to  get  a 
flat-boat  which  one  of  the  guides  informed  us  was  hidden  there. 
We  found  the  boat,  and  as  it  grew  dark  launched  it,  commencing  a 
passage  down  the  rapid  current  of  the  Platte.  We  had  not  gone 
far,  however,  before  the  vessel  upset,  and  the  whole  cargo  of  rifles 
and  men  was  subjected  to  a  cold  bath.  After  some  trouble  in 
righting  the  boat  the  passage  was  resumed,  two  or  three  rifles  and 
several  hats  making  up  all  the  losses  that  were  sustained.  But  the 
members  of  the  party  also  suffered  considerable  loss  of  blood  dur- 
ing the  trip,  drawn  by  mosquitoes — they  were  so  very  troublesome 
that  we  had  to  wear  handkerchiefs  over  our  faces  and  gloves  on  our 
hands,  and  these  were  but  a  partial  protection  against  their  as- 
saults. 

July  5  (Monday).  We  commenced  operations  this  morning  by 
hauling  our  boat  out  of  the  water  and  repairing  and  caulking  it, 
and  covering  it  with  canvas.  We  christened  the  vessel  The  Sap- 
per, and  I  painted  the  name  on  the  side.  We  launched  the  boat, 
towed  it  to  the  crossing  and  rigged  up  a  rope  ferry.  All  being 
ready  we  carried  over  two  wagons,  loaded  with  timbers,  which  are  to 
start  to-morrow  morning,  together  with  a  party  of  men,  to  build  a 
bridge  over  a  creek. 

July  6  (Tuesday).  We  began  early  to  ferry  over  the  train,  and 


23 

by  noon  had  most  of  the  wagons  across.  The  party  was  sent  a  few 
miles  ahead  to  build  the  bridge,  and  having  completed  that  service 
returned  to  camp  at  night.  We,  for  our  part,  carried  over  the 
last  load  about  5  o'clock,  and  then  pitched  camp. 

July  7  (Wednesday).  At  reveille  the  Company  was  detailed  into 
parties;  one  party  as  pioneers,  equipped  with  axes,  and  another 
as  pontoniers,  to  be  left  here  to  take  down  the  ferry  and  then  fol- 
low after  the  Company. 

The  pontoniers  crossed  over  in  the  ferry,  and  after  taking  the 
rigging  apart  were  obliged  to  recross  the  river  on  the  pontons. 
We  lashed  them  together,  and  packing  on  our  ropes  and  tools,  we 
made  the  crossing,  using  shovels  as  paddles.  We  left  all  the  ap- 
pliances of  the  ferry,  that  we  thought  the  Indians  could  not  steal, 
behind  at  the  river  for  the  use  of  the  Infantry.  We  then  packed 
the  wagon,  which  remained  behind  for  us,  and,  shouldering  our 
rifles,  we  trudged  on  in  its  rear.  A  short  march  was  expected,  but 
we  passed  over  two  bridges  that  our  men  had  built — they  were 
strong  and  substantial  structures —  and  continued  on  and  on,  with- 
out seeing  anything  of  camp.  Warm  weather,  dusty  roads,  and 
disappointed  hopes  rendered  us  extremely  tired.  A  shower  arose 
about  2  p.  m.,  but  proved  to  be  more  bluster  than  rain,  making  the 
dust  on  the  road  just  moist  enough  to  clog  on  our  shoes.  The 
breeze  which  attended  the  shower,  however,  proved  quite  refresh- 
ing. We  at  last  found  the  train,  after  marching  twenty  and  a 
half  miles,  going  into  camp  at  the  foot  of  the  Park  Mountains, 
where  we  joined  the  Company  in  time  to  pitch  our  tents  with  the 
others.  Part  of  the  Company,  together  with  the  Infantry  detail, 
was  engaged  in  erecting  a  bridge  over  the  creek  at  this  place,  which 
was  completed  before  dark. 

A  corporal  of  our  Company  and  one  of  Lieutenant  Bryan's  men 
were  sent  back  to  the  Infantry,  this  morning,  to  leave  a  couple  of 
wagons  and  the  forge  with  them.  They  took  three  days'  pro- 
visions, and  were  mounted  on  mules. 

July  8  (Thursday).  We  marched  fourteen  miles.  A  portion  of 
the  Company  went  in  advance,  with  Sergeant  Wilson,  to  cut  tim- 
ber, and  another,  under  command  of  Sergeant  Vanderslice,  to  cut 
timber  and  build  a  bridge.  The  Company  marched  on,  and,  going- 
through  Bryans  Pass,  entered  the  long-looked- for  Bridgers  Pass, 
where  we  entered  on  a  hill  which  is  the  dividing  line  of  the  waters, 
from  which  they  flow  eastward  and  westward.  Excellent  trout 
and  other  fish  are  caught  in  these  mountain  streams.  There  are 


24 

no  high,  rocky  mountains  to  be  seen,  and,  I  must  confess,  we  were 
somewhat  disappointed  in  the  Pass.  There  is  no  vegetation  ex- 
cept grass  and  artemisia,  and  the  scenery  is  entirely  too  common- 
place to  satisfy  our  expectations  of  a  pass  through  the  Rocky 
Mountains. 

Some  Indians  were  seen  scouting  about,  of  the  Arapahoe  tribe. 
And  Sergeant  Wilson's  party  saw  two  bears,  but  as  their  rifles 
were  stacked  some  distance  off  the  bears  managed  to  make  their 
escape. 

Our  camp  is  pitched  among  the  sage  bushes,  infested  with  a  tick 
or  bug  which  we  dread  as  much  as  centipedes  or  scorpions ;  a  knife 
can  not  cut  them,  and  there  is  no  way  of  killing  them  except  by 
burning.  The  nearest  water  is  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  camp, 
and  that  scarcely  fit  to  drink,  the  name  of  the  stream,  "Muddy 
Creek, ' '  plainly  indicating  the  nature  of  the  water. 

This  evening  we  unloaded  all  the  wagons  and  took  all  the  bodies 
from  the  running*gear,  in  order  to  be  ready  to  start  early  in  the 
morning  for  timber. 

One  of  the  messengers  who  were  sent  back  to  the  "Infantry  re- 
turned to  camp  this  evening,  our  corporal  having  been  left  behind 
at  the  Platte,  where  one  of  the  mules  had  been  lost  in  crossing. 
They  went  back  after  the  corporal  this  evening. 

July  9  (Friday).  We  did  not  move  our  camp  to-day,  as  twenty 
men  were  sent  back  twelve  miles  to  cut  timber.  We  spent  nearly 
all  the  day  in  the  woods,  cutting  fifty-four  logs,  each  about  thirty 
feet  long  and  eighteen  to  twenty  inches  in  diameter.  We  started 
back  about  4  o'clock,  but  many  little  delaying  accidents  made  it 
quite  late  before  we  reached  camp.  Some  of  our  party  fired  the 
loads  out  of  their  rifles  when  we  were  near  the  Company,  which 
alarmed  the  camp  so  much  that  all  the  men  were  turned  out  under 
arms,  supposing  that  they  were  being  attacked  by  Indians. 

The  Company  was  this  morning  divided  into  three  squads,  each 
assigned  to  a  sergeant,  to  be  kept  by  him  during  the  campaign — 
each  sergeant  is  to  take  his  party  for  whatever  service  or  duty  he 
is  given  to  perform. 

July  10  (Saturday).  Leaving  the  tents  standing,  as  the  sick  were 
to  remain  here,  we  took  the  timber  to  where  it  was  to  be  unloaded 
and  used.  Frequent  recourse  was  had  to  shovels  and  picks  on  the 
trip,  cutting  down  hills,  filling  up  ravines,  etc.  We  went  about 
three  miles,  unloaded  the  timber,  helped  to  pitch  some  tents,  and 
then,  the  wagons  having  returned  empty  half  an  hour  before, 


25 

we  of  the  new  guard  were  obliged  to  walk  back  to  the  old  camp  to 
mount  guard.  But  arriving  there,  we  first  put  a  new  load  on  the 
wagons,  then  were  given  a  half-hour  to  clean  our  rifles  before 
guard  mount. 

There  are  seventeen  men  on  the  sick  report,  nearly  all  of  whom 
are  afflicted  with  mountain  or  sage  fever.  No  doctor  is  with  us,  so 
we  are  forced  to  content  ourselves  with  what  medical  advice  a  lieu- 
tenant's commission  can  furnish. 

Sergeant  Wilson's  party  is  ahead,  with  the  Infantry  detail,  lay- 
ing out  and  constructing  a  road. 

The  writer  was  given  charge  of  the  compass  and  the  odometer, 
with  instructions  to  report  daily  to  Lieutenant  Duane. 

July  11  (Sunday).  Camp  was  moved  about  10.30  a.  m.,  and  when 
we  came  up  with  the  other  two  parties  they  struck  tents  and 
joined  us.  We  went  about  two  miles  farther,  and  encamped  on 
Muddy  Creek.  Our  camp  ground  is  rough,  stony,  and  full  of  tall 
sage  bushes,  which  we  had  to  cut  away  in  order  to  get  room  to 
pitch  our  tents.  We  are  again  besieged  with  ticks,  mosquitoes  and 
snakes  during  the  day,  and  entertained  by  the  howls  of  the  wolves 
and  coyotes  at  night. 

An  enormous  rattlesnake  was  killed  this  afternoon — we  cut  up 
his  snakeship  and  fried  him,  and  several  of  us  made  a  hearty  meal. 
Lieutenant  Alexander  assisting.  We  found  the  meat  quite  sweet 
and  delicate,  so  that  all  snakes  that  come  near  us  hereafter  will  be 
in  imminent  danger  of  the  frying  pan. 

The  tobacco  store  was  opened  this  evening,  and  we  received  our 
allowance  of  the  same. 

July  12  (Monday).  At  reveille  the  Company  was  divided.  Forty 
men  and  two  wagons  were  given  to  Sergeant  Wilson.  We  found 
a  great  many  places  along  the  selected  route  which  required  im- 
provement— there  were  hills  to  grade,  stone  walls  to  build,  ravines 
to  fill,  and  one  bridge  to  construct  over  Muddy  Creek.  We  were 
so  busily  employed  during  the  day  that  we  had  no  time  to  cook  or 
eat,  and  when  night  came  we  were  hungry  enough  to  appreciate 
the  cracker  and  piece  of  raw  bacon  upon  which  we  made  our 
supper. 

July  13  (Tuesday).  We  arose  early,  our  only  reveille  being  the 
voice  of  the  Sergeant,  calling:  "All  hands  ahoy!  Let  us  early  birds 
be  out  looking  for  the  worm,  for  only  the  early  bird  catches  him. ' ' 
We  arose,  had  breakfast,  and  sallied  out  to  work,  leaving  our  tents 
standing  and  everything  behind  except  haversacks  and  canteens, 


26 

which  were  too  necessary  to  be  slighted.  We  began  the  con- 
struction of  a  bridge,  but  could  not  finish  it  on  account  of  the 
timber  not  arriving.  The  Company  camp  was  moved  to-day  to 
within  sight  of  the  bridge. 

We  enjoy  ourselves  vastly  while  on  these  working  parties,  not- 
withstanding Hardships  and  privations.  No  roll  calls,  no  guard 
mounting,  no  policing — nothing  but  peace  and  quiet  from  the  time 
we  quit  work  until  we  retire  to  sleep.  We  spend  the  evenings  in 
joking,  singing,  and  smoking. 

July  14  (Wednesday).  We  arose  at  4,  and  packed  our  rifles  and 
accoutrements  in  the  wagons,  two  men  only  in  each  of  the  four 
parties  keeping  their  guns,  in  case  we  should  be  able  to  start  up 
some  game.  We  gained  about  eight  miles  on  our  journey  to-day. 
Many  deep  gullies  were  encountered,  requiring  some  time  to  be  put 
into  condition  for  travelling.  A  camp  ground  was  selected  among 
the  Sand  Peaks,  outside  of  Bridgers  Pass,  and  on  Muddy  Creek. 
It  was  within  an  hour  of  sunset,  but  as  the  Company  train  is  to 
proceed  some  miles  farther  to-morrow,  we  were  obliged  to  go  a 
mile  ahead,  where  an  immense  gully,  about  eighty  feet  wide,  with 
sides  about  fifteen  feet  high,  nearly  perpendicular,  was  to  be  filled 
and  graded.  We  all  set  to  with  a  will,  and  finished  this  great 
bugbear  of  an  undertaking  within  an  hour.  Sergeant  Wilson  re- 
ceived four  days'  more  rations  from  the  Company.  The  guides 
joined  us  this  evening,  as  the  country  we  are  to  pass  over  to-morrow 
is  somewhat  difficult. 

July  15  (Thursday).  This  morning,  as  a  long  march  was  to  be 
made  on  account  of  the  scarcity  of  water,  we  were  turned  out  at  1 
a.  m.  Several  large  fires  were  built  and  we  sat  about  them  to  eat 
our  breakfast,  after  which,  by  their  light,  we  struck  tents  and 
loaded  the  wagons.  About  2  o'clock  we  assembled  about  the  fire 
and  made  the  surrounding  mountains  ring  with  the  strains  of  the 
"Star  Spangled  Banner."  There,  in  the  midst  of  the  wilderness, 
where  the  human  form  is  but  rarely  seen,  where  the  stillness  of  the 
night  is  almost  painfully  oppressive,  where  no  sound  is  heard  to 
break  the  spel-1  of  silence  save  the  solitary  howl  of  some  disconsolate 
wolf,  the  shrill  voice  of  the  brooding  owl,  or  the  mournful,  plain- 
tive cry  of  the  cuckoo — there  did  our  voices  swell  out  in  harmony 
as  we  published  to  the  hills  our  patriotic  principles.  And  when, 
the  chorus  returned  for  the  last  time,  and  every  voice  was  exerted 
to  its  utmost  to  do  justice  to  the  language,  it  seemed  as  though 
those  very  hills  had  caught  the  inspiration.  As  our  voices  ceased, 


27 

and,  for  a  moment,  not  a  word  was  spoken,  back  from  the  distant 
hills  came  the  sound,  as  of  many  voices,  bearing  the  burden — 

"O'er  the  laud  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave." 

Three  cheers  were  given  for  the  invisible  songsters,  who  as  heartily 
responded. 

Then  we  shouldered  our  tools  and  in  single  file  followed  the 
footsteps  of  the  guide's  pony  into  the  darkness  which  surrounded 
us.  All  along  the  line  jokes  passed  from  man  to  man,  laughter 
rang  out  in  merry  peals,  and  occasionally  a  song  burst  forth.  All 
was  joy  and  mirth. 

Our  course  lay  principally  over  an  extensive  plain.  In  the  dis- 
tance before  us  could  be  seen  the  irregular  outline  of  the  mountains 
toward  which  we  are  making  our  way.  After  marching  eighteen 
and  a  half  miles  we  came  to  our  camp  ground,  and  a  most  dismal 
one  it  is.  No  grass  to  be  seen — nothing  but  deep  sand  and  sage 
bushes ;  no  wood  nor  chips  to  be  found,  and  in  their  place  only 
small  twigs  and  sage  bushes  to  burn;  the  only  water  that  from  a 
spring  which  furnishes  poor  water  and  insufficient  quantities  of 
that.  The  low  ground  about,  which  is  all  moist,  is  encrusted  with 
nitrate  of  soda,  magnesia,  and  potash.  A  severe  storm  of  hail  and 
rain  ocurred  after  we  reached  camp,  and  between  mud  and  incon- 
venience our  patience  was  sorely  tried.  But  I  believe,  like  "Mark 
Tapley, "  the  worse  the  circumstances  the  jollier  we  felt. 

The  Company  train  came  up  and  joined  us  this  evening,  and  our 
tents  were  all  pitched  together.  Our  tools  were  turned  in,  as  we 
are  not  to  go  in  advance  as  a  working  party  any  more. 

July  16  (Friday).  We  went  only  six  and  a  half  miles  to-day, 
owing  to  so  many  places  in  the  road  requiring  work.  We  en- 
camped about  a  half  mile  from  Haystack  Springs,  situated  in  a 
deep,  rocky  ravine  at  the  base  of  the  mountains,  the  name  derived 
from  three  or  four  high  rocks  in  the  vicinity  which  bear  a  strong 
resemblance,  in  color  and  shape,  to  haystacks.  The  country  over 
which  we  passed  is  rocky,  rough,  and  densely  covered  with  wild 
sage,  through  which  we  struggled  at  the  risk  of  decorating  the 
bushes  with  shreds  of  our  clothing  and  staining  them  with  our 
blood,  which  trickled  from  numerous  scratches  inflicted  by  the 
thorny  branches.  No  living  thing  is  found  among  these  sage 
bushes  except  sage  hens,  a  spectral  looking  hare,  ravens,  ticks,  and 
ants. 

July  17  (Saturday).  We  marched  fourteen  and  a  half  miles  and 


28 

encamped  at  "Wolfs  Spring,"  discovered  by  one  of  our  Indian 
hunters,  Wolf,  and  named  in  honor  to  the  discoverer.  Our  camp 
is  on  the  top  of  a  very  high  hill,  and  the  spring — the  only  place 
from  which  we  can  obtain  water — is  situated  at  its  base,  the  de- 
scent being  long,  steep,  and  very  rough.  The  water  is  pure,  cold, 
and  clear  as  crystal. 

To-day  a  new  disposition  was  made,  a  working  party  being  de- 
tailed, and  the  remainder  of  the  Company  carrying  arms.  At 
every  place  requiring  improvements  the  Company  and  train  halted 
and  waited  until  the  working  party  was  finished. 

A  fine,  large  buffalo  was  shot,  and  the  tool  wagon  was  dispatched 
,to  bring  in  the  spoils.  In  the  evening  the  game  was  divided. 

Two  expressmen,  accompanied  by  Allen,  our  chief  guide,  left 
us  this  afternoon  for  Fort  Bridger,  to  execute  some  important 
business  and  to  bring  back  the  mail. 

July  18  (Sunday).  In  the  morning  a  road  was  to  be  cut  around 
the  base  of  the  hill.  The  task  was  accomplished  by  noon,  the  exca- 
vation being  carried  to  a  depth  of  seven  feet  on  the  upper  side, 
through  alternate  strata  of  magnesian  limestone  and  sandstone. 
We  then  struck  camp  and  moved  on,  going  only  three  miles,  how- 
ever, as  water  could  not  be  obtained  within  nine  or  ten  miles  be- 
yond this  place,  and  it  was  too  late  to  attempt  to  reach  it.  We 
camped  at  Banner  Bluff,  on  Bitter  Creek. 

The  bluff  is  a  grand  and  curious  geological  formation,  about 
twelve  hundred  feet  in  height,  the  side  almost  vertical  and  com- 
posed of  alternate  horizontal  layers  of  protozoic  and  red  sandstone, 
reminding  one  of  the  stripes  of  the  American  flag. 

July  19  (Monday).  We  marched  only  ten  and  a  half  miles,  but 
did  not  reach  our  new  camp  ground,  which  is  again  on  Bitter 
Creek,  until  quite  late,  some  obstacle  or  other  presenting  itself 
every  few  hundred  yards  to  arrest  our  progress.  The  country  was 
of  the  worst  possible  description,  barren  and  sandy ;  the  surface  of 
the  ground  was  baked  to  a  hard  crust,  and  broken  by  a  network 
of  deep  fissures,  some  of  them  two  or  three  inches  across,  resemb- 
ling the  gaps  of  a  miniature  earthquake.  No  vegetation,  except  a 
stunted  growth  of  artemisia. 

July  20  (Tuesday).  We  again  encamped  on  Bitter  Creek,  after  a 
march  of  fifteen  miles.  There  is  no  improvement  in  the  aspect  of 
the  country,  although  there  was  not  so  much  labor,  required  in  the 
construction  of  the  road,  the  country  being  for  the  most  part  level 
or  rolling.  A  great  deal  of  poor  coal  is  scattered  over  the  ground, 


29 

which  is  covered,  throughout  the  latter  six  or  eight  miles  of  our 
march  with  a  complete  bed  of  these  fragments,  mixed  with  basaltic 
trap  and  a  dark  conglomerate  containing  an  immense  number  of 
small  shells. 

To-day  we  were  compelled  to  mourn  the  loss  of  one  of  our  com- 
panions, who,  afflicted  with  apoplexy,  was  left,  a  few  days  ago, 
with  the  Kegiment.  He  died  at  8  p.  m.  and  was  buried  in  his 
uniform,  the  Sixth  Regiment  escorting  the  body  to  its  wild  and 
lonely  resting  place,  with  the  customary  military  honors.  I,  my- 
self, carved  the  board  erected  at  his  head: 

IN  MEMOKY  OF  WM.  G.  SLAYTFR 

Of  Co.  "A,"  U.  S.  Engineers, 
Died  July  19,  1858,  Aged  27  years. 

His  was  a  frank  and  genial  nature,  and  his  many  good  qualities 
and  cheerful  disposition  had  established  him  as  a  universal  favor- 
ite among  his  comrades.  His  death  threw  a  gloom  over  our  usually 
cheerful  and  buoyant  spirits.  This  evening  the  camp  was  still. 
The  customary  song  was  not  heard — no  hearty  peals  of  laughter 
rang  out  to  disturb  the  solemn  silence. 

July  21  (Wednesday).  We  made  but  a  short  march  to-day,  the 
country  over  which  we  passed  being  unfavorable  for  the  construc- 
tion of  the  road.  We  encountered  many  deep  gullies,  which  de- 
tained us  a  considerable  time.  Nine  miles'  marching  brought  us 
to  another  camp  on  Bitter  Creek.  About  three  miles  from  yester- 
day's camp  we  discovered  the  road  that  Captain  Marcy  made  a  few 
weeks  ago.  It  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  creek,  however,  and 
we  could  not  form  a  junction  with  it,  owing  to  the  difficulty  of 
crossing  the  creek. 

July  22  (Thursday).  This  day  brought  us  a  very  tiresome  and 
fatiguing  march  to  Sulphur  Springs,  nineteen  and  two-thirds  miles. 
The  sun  shot  down  its  melting  rays  Avith  overpowering  intensity, 
and,  to  add  to  our  misery,  no  water  was  found  that  was  fit  to  drink. 
The  bed  of  the  creek  was  dry,  a  misfortune  that  we  did  not  expect, 
as  the  stream  where  we  crossed  it  was  quite  deep.  True,  two 
puddles  of  stagnant  water  did  present  themselves  to  our  longing 
eyes,  but  how  grievous  was  our  disappointment  when,  upon  tast- 
ing, the  water  proved  to  be  brackish  and  sulphurous.  Yet,  such 
was  the  thirst  of  our  men,  that  some  took  a  hearty  drink  of  it,  al- 
though the  majority  reluctantly  resumed  the  march,  looking  eager- 
ly in  the  distance  as  we  reached  the  summit  of  each  successive  hill, 


30 

to  see  if  we  could  descry  the  sparkling  flash  of  water.  At  the  con- 
clusion of  our  march  several  pools  were  discovered,  near  which  we 
camped;  but  we  found  that  these  springs  were  also  sulphurous. 
As  we  did  not  reach  camp  until  dark  our  dinner  was  not  ready 
until  midnight,  when  all  who  preferred  food  to  sleep  partook  of 
this  most  excellent  cheer,  by  the  light  of  a  greasewood  fire.  Our 
teamsters,  accompanied  by  the  guard,  were  obliged  to  march  a  mile, 
after  reaching  camp,  in  order  to  get  grass  for  the  animals. 

This  evening  the  expressmen  who  were  sent  a  few  days  ago  to 
Fort  Bridger  returned,  bringing  with  them  our  mail.  We  soon  for- 
got the  fatigue  of  the  body  in  the  mental  joys  of  the  intercourse 
with  our  absent  loved  ones. 

July  23  (Friday).  We  marched  sixteen  miles  and  encamped  on 
the  bank  of  the  Green  River.  Throughout  the  march,  as  yester- 
day, no  water  could  be  found  that  we  could  drink.  Many  of  the 
men  allayed  their  thirst  by  mixing  molasses  and  vinegar.  Vasco 
Nunez  de  Balboa  was  not  more  delighted  at  the  discovery  of  the  Pa- 
cific Ocean  than  were  we  at  the  sight  of  the  cool,  clear  water  of  the 
river,  to  which  we  helped  ourselves  liberally.  A  rope  ferry  and  a 
flatboat  are  kept  here  for  the  convenience  of  the  Government 
troops  and  trains.  We  are  once  more  favored  with  a  grass  bed  in- 
stead of  one  of  dust,  and  with  white  poplar  wood  for  fuel,  instead 
of  buffalo  chips. 

July  24  (Saturday).  We  merely  crossed  the  river,  our  train  be- 
ing safely  moved  by  noon  to  the  west  side,  where  we  pitched  our 
tents,  once  more  on  the  sand.  In  the  afternoon  a  high  wind  arose, 
which  blew  the  sand  about  in  such  quantities  that  we  were  obliged 
to  keep  within  our  tents.  But  no  place  was  exempt  from  the  gen- 
eral plague,  even  our  boxes,  when  opened,  being  found  to  have 
their  contents  covered  with  fine  dust. 

July  25  (Sunday).  We  encamped  on  Blacks  Fork,  marching  a 
distance  of  fourteen  and  a  half  miles. 

July  26  (Monday).  We  marched  seventeen  miles  farther,  and 
encamped  on  Hams  Fork.  The  emigrant  road  to  Camp  Scott  was 
struck  by  us  early  in  the  morning,  and  we  were  greatly  rejoiced 
to  find  our  road-making  duties  terminated.  The  Emigrant  Road 
is  wide,  level,  and  gravelly,  and  was  quite  pleasant  to  travel  upon, 
especially  for  us  who  had  been  struggling  through  sage  bushes  for 
more  than  two  weeks.  Several  parties  of  emigrants  were  seen 
slowly  wending  their  way  toward  the  Great  Salt  Lake.  All  had 
rough,  uncouth  wagons  and  poor,  clumsy  oxen — and  they  them- 


31 

selves  were  rougher  than  any  part  of  their  outfit.  We  crossed  a 
bridge  over  Hams  Fork,  at  which  an  infantry  guard  is  stationed 
to  protect  it  from  the  depredations  of  the  Indians  and  Mormons. 
Several  Mormons  came  to  camp  with  wagons  loaded  with  produce, 
for  which  they  demanded  extravagant  prices.  They  were  immedi- 
ately surrounded  by  us,  as  much  to  see  bona  fide  Mormons  as  to 
purchase  these  comforts  and  luxuries  of  which  we  have  been  so 
long  deprived.  We  were  soon  involved  in  warm  disputes  con- 
cerning the  justice  of  the  Government  and  the  culpability  of  the 
Mormon  leaders.  They  appeared  to  be  very  intelligent,  and  evi- 
dently considered  themselves  a  badly  used  people. 

July  27  (Tuesday).  We  marched  nineteen  and  a  half  miles,  and 
encamped  again  on  Hams  Fork,  which  we  were  obliged  to  ford 
four  times  during  the  day.  The  country  looks  more  fertile.  We 
beheld,  during  the  day,  unmistakable  proof  of  the  severity  of 
Colonel  Cook's  march  of  last  winter,  in  the  immense  number  of 
dead  cattle  scattered  along  the  road.  We  counted  over  three 
hundred  carcasses  of  oxen  and  mules,  and  in  some  places  as  high 
as  ten,  twelve,  and  fifteen  in  one  group. 

July  28  (Wednesday).  We  remained  in  camp,  the  Commanding 
Officer  having  gone  to  Fort  Bridger  to  ascertain  if  any  orders  were 
waiting  for  him.  This  afternoon  three  companies  of  volunteers 
passed  our  camp  en  route  for  the  States;  they  were  composed,  we 
were  informed,  of  the  teamsters  who  came  out  last  fall  and  winter. 
They  looked  as  though  they  had  seen  some  pretty  hard  service,  but 
strode  along  nevertheless  with  the  determination,  apparently,  not 
to  allow  distance,  inconvenience,  or  other  influence  to  retard  their 
homeward  progress.  They  regarded  us  with  an  expression  which 
seemed  to  say,  * '  God  help  you,  poor  fellows !  We  pity  you,  indeed. ' ' 

July  29  (Thursday).  We  moved  out  at  noon,  and  encamped  on 
Henrys  Fork,  four  miles  farther.  Lieutenant  Alexander  and  eight 
men,  with  wagons,  left  us  before  daylight  to  go  to  the  Fort  for 
rations.  When  we  reached  our  new  camp  we  found  them  already 
there,  awaiting  our  arrival.  The  move  to-day  was  necessary  in 
order  to  obtain  a  fresh  supply  of  grass,  it  being  closely  cropped  by 
the  cattle  belonging  to  the  ox-trains  which  camp  along  these 
streams.  A  wagon  load  of  soldiers  passed  our  camp,  going  to  re- 
lieve the  guard  at  the  bridge. 

July  30  (Friday).  No  march  to-day.  Our  herd  was  sent  about 
a  mile  up  the  stream,  half  the  guard  accompanying  it,  relieved  at 
noon  by  the  other  half.  The  Infantry  detachment,  which  we  left 


32 

behind  a  few  days  ago  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  Regiment,  joined 
us  this  evening  and  pitched  camp  alongside  of  us.  The  Mormons 
are  again  in  camp  with  butter,  eggs,  cheese,  and  onions. 

July  31  (Saturday).  We  remained  in  camp  all  day.  No  duty 
was  required  of  us  and  we  enjoyed  a  good  rest,  a  luxury  we  have 
had  but  once  since  our  start  from  Leavenworth. 

August  1  (Sunday).  We  moved  on  this  morning  and  encamped 
within  a  half  mile  of  Fort  Bridger.  The  Fort,  as  it  appears  to  us 
from  our  camp,  resembles  an  extensive  camp  more  than  a  fort,  and 
is  not  inappropriately  named  "Camp  Scott."  It  is  situated  very 
low  in  a  fertile  valley,  directly  at  the  foot  of  the  highest  chain  of 
the  Eocky  Mountains  we  have  yet  seen,  and  watered  by  an  intricate 
maze  of  mountain  streams. 

This  is  the  termination  of  our  outward  journey.  We  are  a 
hundred  and  thirteen  miles  from  Salt  Lake  City,  and  very  eager 
to  proceed — tormented  with  impatience  by  the  dilatory  movements, 
continually  anxious  lest  a  peace  should  be  concluded  before  we 
reach  Salt  Lake.  Day  and  night  we  are  absorbed  with  speculation 
as  to  whether  we  will  proceed  to  join  General  Johnston  or  receive 
orders  to  return  to  the  East. 

August  2  (Monday).  A  party  of  us  visited  the  Fort.  It  is  com- 
posed mostly  of  tents  of  all  shapes  and  sizes.  Attempts  have  been 
made  to  render  them  comfortable  for  the  winter  by  covering  them 
with  two  or  three  thicknesses  of  canvas.  In  front  is  erected  a  sub- 
stitute for  a  piazza,  consisting  of  a  sort  of  entry  or  hall  enclosed 
with  wagon  covers,  while  in  the  rear  is  seen  a  huge  stack  of  mud 
blocks,  arranged  as  though  a  fruitless  effort  was  made  to  get  them 
into  some  kind  of  symmetrical  form,  probably  to  represent  mason- 
ry. We  inquired  whether  these  appendages  were  intended  for 
ornament  or  use,  and  were  informed  that  they  were  chimneys.  The 
garrison  consists  of  three  companies,  one  of  cavalry  and  two  of  in- 
fantry, which  are  now  engaged  in  erecting  four  log  buildings  to  be 
occupied  as  quarters  during  the  coming  winter. 

The  fort  proper  is  represented  by  a  wall  about  twenty-five  feet 
in  height  and  three  feet  thick,  built  of  cobblestones,  whitewashed 
inside  and  out.  Within  stands  the  commissary  and  sutler's  stores, 
together  with  a  confused  mass  of  rude  buildings,  in  the  pig-pen 
style  of  architecture.  The  stone  wall  is  flanked  by  two  well-built 
lunettes,  with  a  relief  of  about  fourteen  feet,  the  gabion  and  fas- 
cine work  being  substantially  made  and  placed.  In  the  salient  of 
one  of  the  lunettes  is  a  small  brass  four-pounder,  mounted  in  bar- 


33 

bette  upon  a  wooden  platform.  The  ditch  is  enclosed  with  an 
abatis,  which,  considering  the  material  and  means  available,  is 
quite  an  achievement  in  the  art  of  field  fortification. 

Great  numbers  of  ox  and  mule  wagons  were  corralled  about  the 
Fort,  having  come  out  in  trains  from  time  to  time.  But  the  oxen 
that  once  plodded  their  weary  way  before  them  have  long  since 
furnished  food  for  the  garrison,  and  the  mules  have  been  sent  to 
Salt  Lake  Valley.  When  the  wagons  accumulate  in  such  numbers 
as  to  form  an  obstacle  they  are  burned,  being  rarely  sent  back 
East. 

To-day  is  election  day  in  this  country,  and  although  we  have 
been  residents  of  the  place  such  a  short  time,  we  were  besieged  by 
the  friends  of  the  candidates  and  the  candidates  themselves,  for 
our  support.  As  there  are  but  seventeen  civilians  about  the  Fort 
the  majority  of  the  offices  are  filled  by  soldiers.  The  ticket  con- 
sists of  one  representative,  three  selectmen,  one  sheriff,  one  record- 
er, one  assessor,  one  coroner,  one  surveyor,  one  stray-pound  keeper, 
one  justice  of  the  peace  and  one  constable. 

A  supply  train  of  fifty-two  wagons  came  in  to  the  Fort  to-day, 
of  which  half  remained  here  and  the  other  half  proceeded  to  join 
General  Johnston. 

August  3  (Tuesday).  The  day  was  spent  in  putting  in  order  the 
contents  of  our  train,  which  had  fallen  into  confusion  during  the 
march,  and  preparing  ourselves  either  to  continue  into  the  farther 
regions  of  Utah,  or  to  turn  about  and  take  a  second  view  of  those 
we  have  already  once  seen.  Tools  were  overhauled  and  assorted, 
account  taken  of  expenditures,  and  clothing  and  other  necessities 
issued. 

August  4  (Wednesday).  A  day  occupied  in  writing  and  reading. 

August  5  (Thursday).  The  three  men  whom  we  left  behind  with 
the  Sixth  came  to  camp  this  afternoon,  quite  recovered  from  the 
fever.  The  Regiment  arrived  and  encamped  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  Fort;  the  remainder  of  the  day  and  evening  were  naturally 
employed  in  mutual  visits  between  the  two  camps. 

THE   RETURN    MARCH. 

August  6  (Friday).  Farewell,  Brigham!  This  time  ill  fortune 
has  stepped  between  us.  We  had  set  our  minds  upon  becoming 
acquainted  with  you,  but  we  are  reluctantly  compelled  to  forego 
the  pleasure.  Farewell,  ye  Mormon  dames!  The  fates  have  decreed 
that  you  are  not  yet  to  be  released  from  your  odious  thralldom. 
This  time  Duplicity,  in  the  garb  of  Peace — Evil  arrayed  in  the 


34 

robes  of  Amity — have  triumphed,  and  Justice,  with  a  mournful 
smile  and  a  pitying  tear,  puts  aside  her  sword  and  scale. 

Such  was  the  mental  address  which  dwelt  in  our  minds  to-day, 
when  we  received  orders  to  return  with  all  expedition  and  resume 
our  customary  duties  at  West  Point.  The  joyous  prospect  of  meet- 
ing with  old  associations  and  once  more  clasping  the  hands  of  our 
dear  friends  was  partially  dampened  by  thoughts  of  the  long, 
weary  distance  between  us  and  them,  and  of  the  numerous  hard- 
ships and  difficulties  which  lie  before  us.  We  are  to  return  by 
the  Northern  Route,  through  the  South  Pass  and  Fort  Laramie, 
and  as  we  are  to  start  early  Monday  we  are  busily  engaged  to-day 
in  making  the  necessary  preparations. 

August  7  (Saturday).  To-day  we  finished  our  preparations  for 
the  march  and  devoted  the  remainder  of  the  day  to  rest.  Many 
changes  were  made  in  the  personnel  of  the  teamsters  and  other  em- 
ployees. As  many  of  the  teamsters  of  the  commissary  train  de- 
sired to  return  to  the  States,  they  were  sent  to  drive  for  us,  and  our 
teamsters  were  taken  to  supply  their  places,  the  Sixth  Infantry  be- 
ing under  orders  to  proceed  to  Oregon.  One  individual  we  parted 
with  reluctantly,  Mr.  Dwyer,  the  assistant  wagon-master  of  our 
train,  a  man  of  noble  character  and  a  great  favorite  with  us.  He 
was  appointed  full  wagon-master  in  the  Sixth. 

August  8  (Sunday).  This  was  hailed  as  a  day  of  rest,  on  which 
we  did  nothing  but  think  of  the  number  of  miles  to  be  travelled 
before  reaching  our  much-wished-for  haven. 

August  9  (Monday).  We  started  upon  our  return  march,  en- 
camping on  Blacks  Fork,  a  distance  of  eighteen  and  a  quarter 
miles. 

August  10  (Tuesday).  We  encamped  on  Blacks  Fork  again,  after 
a  march  of  sixteen  and  three-quarter  miles.  When  we  were  ap- 
proaching the  bridge  at  Hams  Fork  one  of  our  men,  Bourcey,  the 
blacksmith,  was  thrown  from  the  forge,  the  mules  having  been 
frightened  at  the  body  of  a  dead  ox  lying  in  the  road.  His  face 
was  badly  cut  and  it  was  feared  he  was  injured  internally,  as  the 
wheel  passed  across  his  breast.  He  was  left  at  the*  bridge,  in  care 
of  the  guard  stationed  there. 

August  11  (Wednesday).  We  reached  the  upper  crossing  of  the 
Green  River.  This  has  proved  a  very  severe  march,  owing  to  the 
heat  and  sandy  road  and  to  the  length  of  the  march,  twenty-three 
and  a  third  miles.  About  9  a.  m.  we  arrived  at  the  junction  of 
this  road  and  the  new  one  we  made  through  Bridgers  Pass.  We 


35 

reached  the  lower  crossing1  of  the  Green  River  at  about  half- past 
one.  There  we  beheld  large  heaps  of  iron  scattered  about  near  the 
river,  a  great  deal  of  it  imbedded  in  ashes ;  this,  we  were  informed, 
was  all  that  remained  of  the  Government  train  the  Mormons  had 
destroyed  at  the  commencement  of  hostilities.  As  the  river  was 
too  deep  for  fording  at  the  lower  crossing,  we  continued  to  the 
upper  one,  where  we  managed  to  get  safely  across,  the  men  holding 
on  behind  the  wagons. 

August  12  (Thursday).  We  marched  nineteen  miles  and  arrived 
at  the  Big  Sandy  Creek.  A  herd  of  cattle  passed  us  to-day  num- 
bering nine  hundred  head ;  they  seemed  in  good  condition  and  gave 
us  evidence  of  the  plentifulness  of  grass  along  the  route  over  which 
we  are  to  pass. 

August  13  (Friday).  We  continued  the  march  to  the  Little 
Sandy,  nineteen  miles  farther.  The  road  was  hard  and  gravelly, 
the  day  cool,  with  a  bracing  breeze,  and  we  came  into  camp  quite 
fresh  and  strong.  Our  camp  stands  upon  the  bank  of  the  creek, 
where  excellent  water  is  available,  wood  convenient,  and  grass  for 
the  herd  plentiful  and  good. 

August  14  (Saturday).  WTe  reached  Pacific  Springs,  having- 
marched  twenty  and  a  half  miles.  The  ground  was  rough  and 
hilly,  and  the  mules  lagged  a  little.  We  like  this  kind  of  country 
best  for  marching,  as  we  have  longer  rests  before  the  train  catches 
up  at  the  end  of  our  hour-long  marches. 

To-day  we  encountered  an  ox-train,  the  wagon-master  of  which 
had  yeast-powders  for  sale.  We  purchased  some  with  great  alac- 
rity, as  we  have  been  obliged  to  bake  our  cakes  and  bread  without 
that  ingredient. 

The  water  here  is  found  only  in  grassy  springs  and  is  not  very 
pure. 

August  15  (Sunday).  We  left  camp  this  morning  to  make  about 
a  seven  mile  march  to  Sweet  Water,  where  we  could  find  good  grass 
and  water,  but  the  march  was  drawn  out  to  the  length  of  twenty- 
three  and  a  half  miles.  We  went  through  the  South  Pass,  which  is 
hardly  deserving  the  name  of  a  pass,  being  nothing  but  a  valley 
between  hills.  The  Wind  River  Mountains  have  been  in  sight  all 
day,  presenting,  with  their  irregular  outlines,  an  imposing  ap- 
pearance. They  are  high  and  rocky,  with  little  or  no  vegetation. 

Our  camp  to-night  is  on  a  branch  of  Sweet  Water  Creek. 

August  16  (Monday).  We  remained  in  camp,  enjoying  a  rest 
from  the  fatigue  of  marching. 


36 

August  17  (Tuesday).  We  reached  Sweet  Water  Creek,  after  a 
march  of  twenty-three  miles,  during  which  we  passed  over  a  ridge 
of  hills  called  the  "Devils  Backbone."  It  was  a  very  oppressive 
day,  owing  to  the  heat  and  dust. 

We  met  a  contented  looking  family  of  emigrants,  moving  slowly 
westward.  They  were  quite  surprised  to  see  us  and  seemed  to 
think  we  were  going  the  wrong  way. 

August  18  (Wednesday).  We  again  encamped  on  Sweet  Water 
Creek,  a  distance  of  twenty-two  and  a  quarter  miles.  A  number 
of  officers  of  the  Tenth  Infantry,  going  to  the  States  on  leave  of 
absence,  stopped  at  our  camp,  and  went  on  in  advance  with  our 
officers.  When  we  reached  our  new  camp  they  were  comfortably 
enjoying  a  prairie  siesta. 

August  19  (Thursday).  Seventeen  and  a  half  miles  were  trav- 
ersed in  to-day's  march,  which  was  characterized  by  many  interest- 
ing features.  The  Rattlesnake  Mountains,  through  which  the  whole 
march  lay,  are  very  high  and  rocky,  but  instead  of  being  a  con- 
tinuous chain  they  stand  separate  from  each  other,  allowing  the 
road  to  wind  a  comparatively  level  course  between  them.  We 
passed  through  Rattlesnake  Pass,  a  very  wild,  craggy  gorge  be- 
tween the  first  peaks,  the  rocks  and  stones  along  its  precipitous 
sides  thickly  lettered  over  with  rude  attempts  of  ambitious  persons 
to  hand  down  their  names  to  posterity.  Toward  the  close  of  the 
march  we  passed  through  Sweet  Water  Canon,  the  most  sublime 
spectacle  we  have  yet  witnessed.  The  coolness  of  this  delightful 
spot  was  a  strong  inducement  for  lingering,  but  duty  pointed  us 
over  the  barren  prairie  again,  and  very  reluctantly  we  left  Sweet 
Water  Canon  behind. 

We  passed  the  Fourth  Column,  consisting  of  four  companies  of 
the  Seventh  Infantry  and  a  company  of  Cavalry,  commanded  by 
Colonel  Morrison. 

August  20  (Friday).  We  moved  on  to  the  Devils  Grate,  a  distance 
of  twenty  and  a  half  miles.  The  route  lay  principally  along  Sweet 
Water  Creek,  the  sight  of  which,  its  banks  covered  by  a  luxuriant 
growth  of  grass,  was  very  welcome  to  our  eyes;  and  the  road,  too, 
instead  of  being  dusty,  was  hard  and  well  beaten. 

Company  F,  Seventh  Infantry,  passed  us  to-day,  escorting  the 
families  of  some  of  the  men  of  the  Sixth  Infantry.  We  also  saw  a 
large  trading  post  during  the  march,  for  the  benefit  of  the  neighbor- 
ing tribes  of  Indians  and  profit  of  the  Canadian-French  proprietor. 
It  was,  as  is  usual  with  trading  post's,  surrounded  by  a  number  of 


37 

Indian  wigwams,  the  denizens  of  which  were  lazily  lolling  in  the 
sun. 

August  21  (Saturday) .  At  reveille  all  who  wished  to  go  through 
the  Devils  Gate  were  requested  to  step  to  the  front;  the  whole 
Company  unanimously  presented  themselves  for  a  visit  to  his 
Satanic  Majesty's  portals.  The  Gate  is  a  gorge  between  the  moun- 
tains, which,  apparently,  have  been  parted  for  the  express  purpose 
of  giving  passage  to  the  waters  of  Sweet  Water  Creek.  On  one  side 
the  massive  rocks  rise  to  a  height  of  three  hundred  feet,  project- 
ing almost  across  the  gap ;  at  this  part  a  deep,  black  fissure  starts 
from  the  bottom  and  ascends  to  the  very  top,  resembling  a  chimney ; 
the  gap  about  eighty  feet  wide,  the  bottom  covered  with  large 
boulders.  We  scrambled  into  every  accessible  nook  and  corner, 
yelling  and  shouting  like  maniacs. 

We  went  on  to  Greasewood  Creek,  marching  twenty-one  and 
three-quarter  miles.  Another  large  trading  post  was  seen  to-day, 
kept  by  Louis  Greenyard;  it  is  said  to  be  the  most  extensive  post 
along  the  route.  Mr.  Greenyard  has  erected  a  bridge  across  the 
stream  at  this  place. 

August  22  (Sunday).  We  marched  twenty-three  and  a  quarter 
miles  and  encamped  on  the  banks  of  the  North  Fork  of  the  Platte 
Eiver.  As  on  last  Sunday,  we  broke  camp  to  move  only  a  few 
miles  to  obtain  grass  for  the  herd;  but  we  made  a  long  march, 
nevertheless.  The  route  lay  over  a  very  hilly  and  rocky  country. 
At  one  time  we  would  be  gazing  from  the  top  of  a  high  hill,  at 
another  winding  across  the  bottom  of  a  barren,  dusty  valley.  The 
road  was  sandy  and  the  water  scarce.  We  hailed  the  view  of  the 
North  Fork  with  acclamations  of  joy.  At  our  camp  a  trading  and 
mail  post  is  stationed,  and  a  little  below  stands  an  Arapahoe  Indian 
village,  the  inhabitants  of  which  soon  turned  out  to  visit  us. 

August  23  (Monday).  We  did  not  move  camp,  but  adopted  this  as 
a  day  of  rest.  The  Indians,  no  doubt,  thought  we  stayed  in  order 
to  give  them  an  opportunity  of  making  acquaintance,  which  they 
set  about  doing  in  a  very  indefatigable  manner,  greatly  to  our  an- 
noyance, for  they  are  a  filthy,  indolent  tribe.  We  were  obliged  to 
remain  in  or  near  our  tents  all  day,  to  keep  them  out,  not  through 
fear  of  their  taking  anything,  for  they  appear  to  be  honest,  but  for 
fear  of  their  leaving  vermin  behind. 

August  24  (Tuesday).  We  encamped  on  Little  Muddy  Creek, 
after  a  march  of  eighteen  and  a  half  miles.  We  followed  the 
course  of  the  river  a  few  miles,  over  a  very  uneven  road.  One  hill 


38 

was  so  steep  that  the  ordinary  teams  could  not  draw  the  wagons; 
we  were  forced  to  double  the  teams,  take  half  the  train  up  first  and 
then  return  for  the  remainder.  We  passed  the  Fifth  Column  this 
morning,  composed  of  Companies  A  and  D,  Seventh  Infantry,  and 
a  company  of  the  Third  Artillery,  with  a  long  train.  The  Sixth 
Column  then  passed  us,  Companies  I  and  E  of  the  Seventh  In- 
fantry and  two  companies  of  Cavalry,  having  under  their  protec- 
tion a  number  of  emigrant  wagons  going  to  Salt  Lake,  the  emi- 
grants being  principally  Danes  and  Germans. 

About  two  miles  below  where  we  are  encamped  this  evening  a 
bridge  is  built  across  the  Platte  and  left  in  charge  of  two  companies 
of  the  Fourth  Artillery. 

A  travelling  grocery  store  came  into  camp  this  evening,  a  ve- 
hicle built  after  the  manner  of  a  stage,  and  quite  as  ornamentally 
painted.  The  usual  commodities  sold  in  Western  stores  were  re- 
tailed at  very  moderate  prices  from  this  fancy  curiosity  shop.  As 
soon  as  custom  began  to  lag,  the  proprietor  closed  up  shop  and, 
whipping  up  his  oxen,  started  in  search  of  a  new  location. 

August  25  (Wednesday).  We  marched  twenty- two  miles,  which 
brought  us  to  Deer  Creek.  The  country  is  now  assuming  a  very 
interesting  appearance  to  us,  at  least,  who  have  been  so  long  in  the 
wilderness.  Our  camp-ground,  to-night,  is  a  veritable  flower  gar- 
den ;  the  fields  yellow  with  flowers,  the  green  trees,  the  white,  sandy 
banks  of  the  river,  and  the  river  itself,  form  a  very  beautiful  spec- 
tacle. A  village,  containing  about  a  dozen  log  houses  and  Indian 
huts,  stands  close  by  our  camp.  It  is  called  "Dacotah  City,"  and 
the  inhabitants  are  French  and  Indians. 

August  26  (Thursday).  Having  marched  eighteen  and  a  quarter 
miles,  we  camped  on  La  Prele  Creek.  At  Box  Elder  Creek  we 
stopped  at  noon.  The  mules  were  turned  out  to  feed  on  the  fine 
crop  of  grass,  and  the  cooks  prepared  our  dinner.  After  two  or 
three  hours'  rest  we  again  took  up  our  march. 

August  27  (Friday).  We  encamped  on  La  Bonte  Creek,  after  a 
march  of  eighteen  miles.  The  country  seems  to  undergo  a  general 
improvement  as  we  approach  Fort  Laramie.  Toward  the  close  of 
the  march  Laramie  Peak  came  into  view. 

August  28  (Saturday).  Our  camp  was  pitched  on  Horseshoe 
Creek,  concluding  a  march  of  twenty- three  and  a  half  miles.  A 
great  deal  of  timber  was  seen  and  we  passed  through  several  ro- 
mantic looking  glens  and  ravines.  The  weather  seemed  mild  and 
many  of  us  rolled  ourselves  in  our  blankets  and,  throwing  ourselves 


39 

upon  the  ground  by  the  fires,  were  soon  lulled  to  sleep  by  the 
prairie  serenaders — wolves,  buffaloes,  owls,  whippoorwills,  and  coy- 
otes. But  during  the  night  the  fires  became  extinguished,  and,  a 
dense  fog  having  arisen,  our  blankets  were  saturated  with  water 
when  we  awoke. 

August  29  (Sunday).  We  reached  Bitter  Cottonwood  Creek 
after  a  march  of  eighteen  and  a  quarter  miles.  During  most  of 
the  forenoon  a  thick  fog  enveloped  the  country,  effectually  veiling 
the  surrounding  scenery  from  our  view — much  to  our  annoyance, 
as  we  were  expecting  to  come  within  sight  of  Fort  Laramie  on  this 
or  to-morrow's  march.  We  passed  several  Indian  lodges  in  the 
morning,  from  which  a  few  dusky  warriors  issued  forth  to  greet 
us  with  the  well-known  words  of  welcome,  ' '  How !  How ! ' '  This 
evening  our  guide  went  ahead  to  the  Fort,  intending  to  return  to- 
morrow in  order  to  direct  us  by  a  short  cut. 

August  30  (Monday).  After  marching  twenty-one  miles  we  en- 
tered the  long  desired  Fort  Laramie.  We  again  struck  the  Platte 
River  shortly  after  breaking  camp.  The  whole  road  from  Fort 
Bridger  to  Fort  Laramie  has  been  infested  with  a  nuisance  in  the 
shape  of  dead  cattle.  Not  one  day's  march  have  we  made  since 
leaving  Fort  Bridger  that  we  are  not  obliged  to  pass  by  many  of 
these  disgusting  objects.  We  were  informed  by  a  teamster  of  an 
ox  train  that  one  wagon-master  had  lost  fifty  cattle  in  one  night, 
with  the  bloody  murrain,  an  epidemic  which  prevails  among  the 
cattle  in  these  regions  to  an  alarming  extent. 

Our  camp  to-night  is  on  the  Laramie  River,  about  half  a  mile 
below  the  Fort. 

August  31  (Tuesday).  We  prepared  for  muster,  which  took  place 
at  8  a.  in.,  the  Company  being  mustered  by  our  own  Commanding 
Officer.  The  Indians  are  about  in  great  numbers,  hanging  around 
the  camp  all  day,  begging  for  food  and  carrying  away  the  offal 
which  is  left  after  killing  our  beef.  Several  old  crones  and  chil- 
dren have  been  scratching  in  the  grass,  from  daylight  until  dark, 
collecting  the  grains  of  corn  which  the  mnles  had  left.  At  one  of 
their  villages  across  the  river  they  have  been  lamenting  the  demise 
of  one  of  their  tribe;  they  commence  their  orgies  at  dusk  with  a 
low,  plaintive  wail,  which  they  gradually  increase  in  volume  until 
it  becomes  a  wild,  furious  chant,  occasionally  interrupted  by  dismal 
shrieks. 

September  1  (Wednesday).  The  day  was  spent  in  preparing  to 
resume  our  march,  rations  being  drawn  and  many  articles,  includ- 


40 

ing  the  forge,  being  turned  over  to  the  Quartermaster  at  the  Fort. 
Some  teamsters  were  discharged  and  others  engaged  in  their  places. 

September  2  (Thursday).  We  marched  twenty-three  and  a  quar- 
ter miles,  and  encamped  on  the  Platte/  The  site  was  so  densely 
covered  with  wild  marigold  that  we  called  the  camp  "Marigold 
Plain."  We  passed  two  Indian  villages  to-day,  the  inhabitants  of 
which  belong  to  some  of  the  tribes  that  have  been  at  the  gathering 
to  hunt  buffaloes  at  the  South  Fork  of  the  Platte ;  having  furnished 
themselves  with  winter  provisions  they  are  now  on  the  return  to 
their  usual  grounds. 

September  3  (Friday).  We  encamped  near  Scotts  Bluff,  having 
marched  twenty-two  miles.  It  was  an  exceedingly  tiresome  march, 
owing  to  the  heat  and  dust.  Several  mirages  were  seen  in  looking 
down  the  river.  We  passed  two  more  Indian  camps  and  met  many 
Indians  scattered  along  the  road,  on  their  way  to  the  West.  An 
ox-train  is  corralled  alongside  of  us  this  evening,  the  wagon-master 
of  which  informs  us  that  the  Cheyenne  Indians  are  collected  on 
the  South  Platte  in  such  numbers  as  to  render  them  quite  insolent, 
and  that  they  have  even  attempted  to  force  wagon-masters  of 
trains  to  give  them  provisions. 

September  4  (Saturday).  We  pitched  camp  near  Castle  or  Court- 
house Rocks,  after  having  marched  twenty-four  miles.  This  has 
been  a  more  oppressive  day  even  than  yesterday. 

September  5  (Sunday).  We  remained  in  camp.  As  fuel  of  every 
description  is  scarce  at  this  place  the  police  party  was  sent  out  on 
mule- back,  with  gunny-bags,  in  quest  of  buffalo  drips. 

September  6  (Monday).  Our  march  extended  as  far  as  Platte 
Meadows,  twenty-five  and  a  half  miles.  Toward  the  latter  part  of 
the  afternoon  it  began  to  rain,  and  has  continued  a  dismal,  dreary 
fall  all  night. 

September  7  (Tuesday).  We  again  encamped  on  the  Platte, 
marching  twenty-two  and  a  half  miles.  The  mosquitoes  were  very 
troublesome  during  the  march,  following  us  in  perfect  clouds — do 
all  that  we  could  to  present  it,  we  were  soon  covered  with  stings. 

September  8  (Wednesday).  We  marched  twenty  and  a  half  miles 
and  once  more  encamped  on  the  North  Platte. 

September  9  (Thursday).  We  encamped  near  Ash  Hollow,  a  dis- 
tance of  seventeen  and  a  half  miles.  We  followed  the  sandy  bed 
of  the  Hollow  until  we  arrived  at  the  point  where  the  road  leaves 
it  and  ascends  a  high  hill.  Before  undertaking  the  ascent,  we  un- 
harnessed the  mules,  turned  them  out  to  grass,  and  ate  our  din- 


41 

ner.  Night  found  us  crossing  the  hills  between  the  two  forks  of 
the  Platte,  beneath  a  steady  fall  of  rain.  We  were  at  last  obliged 
to  encamp  upon  the  road,  where  no  water  could  be  obtained ;  but  we 
had  anticipated  this  want, -having  brought  all  the  barrels  and  kegs 
that  we  could  possibly  muster  filled  with  water  from  the  spring 
in  the  hollow. 

September  10  (Friday).  We  pitched  our  camp  on  the  south 
side  of  the  South  Fork  of  the  Platte  River,  concluding  a  march  of 
eighteen  and  a  half  miles.  The  crossing  of  the  river  was  very 
different  from  that  of  three  months  ago;  we  merely  rolled  up  our 
pantaloons  and  forded  the  stream,  coming  out  on  the  other  side  per- 
fectly dry,  the  water  being  no  place  more  than  knee  deep.  We 
continued  along  the  fiver  about  four  miles  and  then  encamped. 

September  11  (Saturday).  We  marched  twenty- three  and  a  half 
miles  and  encamped  again  on  the  South  Fork.  We  passed  a  mule- 
train  which  was  taking  out  the  families  of  the  Fourth  Artillery 
and  the  Second  Dragoons. 

September  12  (Sunday).  We  stayed  in  camp  to-day  for  a  rest. 
A  few  of  us  got  together  and  prepared  what  in  this  country  is  call- 
ed a  sumptuous  dinner — boiled  tongue,  fried  bacon  and  beefsteak, 
liver  and  onions,  flap- jacks,  boiled  rice  and  chocolate.  This  feast 
being  spread  out  in  tempting  array  on  the  ground,  two  or  three  of 
the  men  in  the  next  tent  were  invited  to  dinner  and  we  gathered 
around  it,  sitting  cross-legged.  In  the  afternoon  the  tent  was  con- 
verted into  a  wine  press.  Some  of  the  men  had  found  grapes  in 
their  rambles  and  brought  .as  many  as  they  could  carry.  Accord- 
ingly, putting  all  the  empty  cups  into  the  service,  we  pressed  the 
grapes  into  them,  mashing  them  with  our  hands.  After  work- 
ing indefatigably  a  couple  of  hours,  staining  ourselves  from  head 
to  foot  and  spoiling  all  the  silk  handkerchiefs  we  could  obtain  in 
the  process  of  straining,  we  procured  about  a  gallon  of  grape  juice. 

September  13  (Monday).  We  encamped  at  Fremonts  Spring, 
having  marched  twenty- four  and  a  half  miles.  This  is  a  very  poor 
camp  site.  The  water  is  stagnant,  being  found  only  in  a  slough  of 
black  mud,  and  fuel  is  very  scarce.  The  comet  which  was  dis- 
covered June  2d  by  Donati  was  rediscovered  by  us  this  evening; 
the  appearance  of  the  phenomenon  was  highly  interesting,  as  we 
had  an  excellent  opportunity  of  seeing  it  over  our  prairie  horizon. 

September  14  (Tuesday).  We  marched  twenty-five  and  three- 
quarter  miles,  and  encamped  near  Box  Elder  Creek.  The  water  is 
even  worse  than  at  Fremonts  Spring,  and  we  were  obliged  to  dig 


42 

for  some  that  was  fit  for  use.  The  mosquitoes  being  very  numer- 
ous and  bloodthirsty  here,  we  burnt  an  incense  of  buffalo  chips  in 
our  tent  this  evening.  Several  buffaloes  were  seen  during  the 
march,  feeding,  about  a  mile  from  the  road  and  almost  at  the  foot 
of  the  sand  hills  which  extend  the  whole  length  of  the  river.  They 
were  too  far  off,  however,  to  permit  a  chase. 

September  15  (Wednesday).  We  encamped  on  the  main  Platte, 
after  a  march  of  twenty-five  and  three-quarter  miles.  When  we 
left  camp,  this  morning,  a  shaggy  brute  of  a  buffalo  came  very  close 
to  the  company ;  he  soon  paid  the  forfeit  of  his  life  for  his  curiosity, 
being  shot  by  Lieutenant  Alexander.  A  short  time  afterward  a 
small  herd  came  close  to  us.  Lieutenant  Alexander  gave  chase  and 
wounded  a  fine,  large  fellow  that  ran  dirctly"*toward  us.  When  he 
came  within  range  a  half-dozen  of  us  crept  toward  him,  but  at  the 
first  shot,  being  hit,  he  turned  about  and  ran  in  a  different  course. 
We  continued  the  chase,  but  were  all  recalled  to  the  company  ex- 
cept one,  who  followed  the  animal,  firing  at  intervals,  and  watched 
by  us  with  intense  interest.  At  last  the  buffalo  seemed  exhausted 
and  stopped,  the  hunter  drawing  near  him.  We  saw  the  man  shoot 
and  saw  the  beast  leap  into  the  air,  then  turn  and  charge  on  the 
man  who  had  fired  at  him.  The  whole  Company  started  to  his  res- 
cue, loading  as  we  ran,  and  the  first  few  shots  turned  the  buffalo 
toward  the  hills,  in  which  direction  he  bounded  with  mighty 
strides,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he  was  riddled  with  bullets. 
He  was  finished  later  by  some  of  the  men  with  the  train,  and 
brought  into  camp. 

The  valley,  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  is  literally  *black  with 
buffaloes.  Soon  after  we  made  camp  a  large  fellow  waded  leisurely 
across  the  river,  just  in  front  of  the  camp,  so  that  we  were  able  to 
get  a  near  view  of  him.  He  was  one  of  the  ugliest  of  these  ugly 
brutes.  Shot  after  shot  was  fired  at  the  animal,  yet  he  stood  firm 
and  resolute,  not  a  motion  betraying  pain  or  fear.  There  was 
something  noble  in  the  manner  in  which  he  faced  his  persecutors, 
as  though,  knowing  he  could  not  reach  them,  he  could  yet  show 
them  he  knew  how  to  die.  Suddenly  he  curved  his  tail,  a  shudder 
Avent  through  his  mighty  frame,  and  he  rolled  over  dead.  The 
men  waded  out  and  cut  him  up.  After  dark  the  wolves  finished 
what  the  men  had  left. 

September  16  (Thursday).  We  marched  twenty- four  and  a  half 
miles  and  camped  near  Plum  Creek.  The  buffaloes  made  their  ap- 
pearance in  great  numbers;  one  small  herd  ran  across  the  road, 


43 

directly  in  front  of  the  train,  which  sudden  charge  frightened  the 
mules  into  a  general,  though  short-lived,  stampede.  Nine  buffaloes 
were  killed  to-day,  only  three  of  which,  however,  were  brought  in. 

September  17  (Friday).. We  encamped  on  the  Platte  River,  after 
a  march  of  twenty-four  and  a  half  miles.  It  proved  to  be  a  severe 
march,  the  day  being  hot  and  the  roads  dusty.  Our  canteens  be- 
came empty  toward  the  latter  part  of  the  march  and  we  suffered 
greatly  for  the  want  of  water.  When  we  came  within  sight  of  the 
river  the  whole  Company  made  an  unceremonious  rush  for  it — 
never  did  water  seem  more  cool  and  refreshing.  The  number  of 
buffaloes  seems  to  increase  rather  than  diminish.  The  Company 
fired  two  volleys  at  one,  which  had  the  temerity  to  approach  to 
within  point-blank  range.  He  limped  for  a  few  hundred  yards 
with  his  grievous  load  of  lead,  then  quietly  lay  down  and  expired. 
At  another  time  we  fired  by  file  at  a  herd,  to  drive  it  from  the  road. 

September  18  (Saturday).  We  arrived  once  more  at  Fort  Kear- 
ney, having  marched  nineteen  and  a  quarter  miles.  Not  one 
buffalo  was  seen  during  the  whole  day,  although  there  was  a  party 
detailed  to  hunt.  Their  sudden  disappearance  surprised  us  con- 
siderably, until  we  learned  that  the  grass  throughout  the  last 
twenty  miles  is  of  a  kind  that  the  animal  does  not  relish.  We  en- 
camped in  rear  of  the  Fort,  where  the  water  is  most  convenient. 
The  man  who  was  left  here  on  the  march  out,  Robert  Ayres,  re- 
joined the  Company,  having  completely  recovered. 

September  19  (Sunday).  The  day  was  given  up  to  rest,  which 
our  weary  bodies  much  needed,  as  the  fatiguing  nature  of  the  long 
marches  and  the  frequent  occurrence  of  our  tours  of  guard  duty 
have  drawn  very  largely  upon  our  physical  energies. 

September  20  (Monday).  We  drew  rations  to-day  and  made 
general  preparations  for  our  start  to-morrow.  Darkness  brought 
with  it  a  fiddler  from  the  Fort,  a  real  jovial  "culluhed  puhson," 
who  was  not  so  much  a  violinist  as  a  fiddler ;  who  danced  ' '  Juba, ' ' 
"Jim  Crow,"  and  the  "Old  Virginia  Break-down,"  and  sang  all 
the  Negro  songs  in  the  catalogue  for  the  edification  and  amusement 
of  his  numerous  audience. 

September  21  (Tuesday).  We  traversed  twenty-two  and  three- 
quarters  miles  of  country,  and  encamped  on  the  hills  above  Platte 
Valley.  As  we  feared  the  necessity  of  camping  where  water  could 
not  be  found,  we  nooned  on  the  river  before  bidding  it  farewell. 
Our  cooks  made  preparations  for  soup,  but  discovered  upon  ex- 
amining the  meat  that  by  reason  of  the  warm  weather  we  would 


44 

have  to  forego  that  refreshment.  We  filled  our  water  casks  before 
resuming  our  march,  and  after  a  very  fatiguing  tramp  we  encamp- 
ed near  a  slough,  which,  together  with  what  water  we  had  brought 
with  us,  supplied  our  necessities  for  this  evening. 

September  22  (Wednesday)-  We  reached  the  Little  Blue  Eiver, 
after  a  march  of  twenty-seven  miles.  The  route  was  over  the  hills 
which  border  upon  the  Little  Blue ;  at  the  termination  of  the  march 
we  descended  into  the  valley  and  encamped  on  the  bank  of  the 
river.  Game  has  been  unusually  scarce  the  past  few  days,  but  to- 
day a  buffalo  and  some  antelopes  were  seen,  although  we  did  not 
succeed  in  obtaining  any. 

September  23  (Thursday).  We  encamped  again  on  the  Little 
Blue,  concluding  a  march  of  twenty-four  miles.  We  passed  a  spot 
where  a  new  log  building  had  not  long  since  been  commenced. 
Upon  entering  it  a  dog  was  discovered  lying  on  the  ground,  near 
some  clothing  saturated  with  blood.  We  endeavored  to  entice  the 
dog  out,  but  neither  threat  nor  persuasion  would  induce  him  to 
leave  his  solitary  tenement,  all  we  could  elicit  from  him  being  an  in- 
quiring, mournful  look  which  moved  the  sternest  heart  to  pity.  We 
suspected  that  the  premises  had  been  the  scene  of  foul  play,  and 
upon  further  search  a  newly  made  grave  was  found  contiguous  to 
the  building.  Later  we  were  told  that  the  man  who  had  owned  the 
claim  was  murdered  by  a  lawless  gang  of  ruffians  which  infests 
the  neighborhood. 

September  24  (Friday).  Our  odometer  registered  twenty-three 
miles.  Our  cainp  is  near  a  large  elm  tree,  the  only  tree  to  be  seen 
for  miles  around,  wherefore  we  adopted  the  name,  "Lone  Tree 
Camp."  One  or  two  log  houses  were  seen  during  the  day's  march, 
and  we  derived  some  comfort  from  the  fact  that  we  are  once  more 
getting  into  an  inhabited  country. 

September  25  (Saturday).  We  passed  several  very  fine  streams 
in  the  course  of  our  twenty- three-mile  march,  but  encamped  near  a 
nauseous  bog  from  which  we  were  forced  to  take  water  for  drinking 
and  cooking.  We  crossed  the  Big  and  Little  Sandy  Creeks,  at  the 
latter  of  which  we  cut  a  supply  of  wood,  leaving  the  sick  wagon 
behind  to  carry  it.  At  the  Big  Sandy  we  saw  a  very  tasty  log 
building,  which,  together  with  its  grounds,  possessed  an  air  of 
comfort  lacking  in  many  farms  and  houses  farther  East. 

September  26  (Sunday).  We  continued  in  camp,  an  arrangement 
that  accords  very  well  with  the  dictates  of  our  consciences,  which 
become  the  more  sensitive  the  nearer  we  approach  to  civilization. 


45 

At  the  close  of  the  day  we  sang  some  sacred  songs — a  sort  of  pen- 
ance for  the  many  breaches  of  the  Fourth  Commandment  of  which 
we  have  been  guilty  during  the  march. 

September  27  (Monday).  We  encamped  at  Cottonwood  Creek, 
after  a  march  of  twentj^-six  and  a  quarter  miles.  To-day  an  ar- 
rangement was  made  which  conduces  greatly  to  the  comfort  of  the 
Company.  An  order  was  published  to  the  effect  that  half  of  the 
guard  should  ride  half  the  length  of  the  march,  and  the  other  half 
of  the  guard  the  remainder;  also  that  a  third  of  the  Company 
should  ride  an  hour,  then  to  be  relieved  by  another  third,  and  so 
on.  This  assisted  very  much  in  saving  us  from  the  fatigue  of 
steady  marching. 

September  28  (Tuesday).  We  marched  twenty-four  and  a  half 
miles  and  encamped  on  Small  Creek.  We  crossed  the  Big  Blue 
Eiver,  by  fording,  this  morning,  and  halted  there  an  hour  for  rest 
and  to  water  the  mules.  We  then  passed  through  Palmetto  City, 
and  found  that  since  our  march  through  there,  in  going  out,  there 
have  been  added  several  more  buildings ;  the  place  has,  in  fact,  be- 
gun to  assume  the  appearance  of  a  thriving  little  village.  The 
pleasure  of  entering  a  store  was  furnished  us,  and  we  gave  the 
astonished  proprietors  an  unusual  run  of  custom  for  a  few  minutes. 

September  29  (Wednesday).  We  marched  and  rode  twenty-eight 
and  a  quarter  miles,  and  encamped  on  Big  Nemaha  Creek.  The 
march  afforded  nothing  of  note,  with  the  exception  of  a  watermelon 
frolic,  which  occurred  during  a  rest  in  front  of  a  store.  We  were 
so  elated  at  once  more  coming  within  reach  of  fruit  that  the  pro- 
prietor was  quickly  rid  of  his  stock  of  melons  and  cantaloupes. 

September  30  •  (Thursday).  We  pitched  our  camp  on  Muddy 
Creek,  concluding  a  march  of  twenty-one  miles.  As  there  are 
several  farmhouses  in  the  vicinity  of  our  camp,  this  evening  we 
had  an  opportunity  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  butter,  milk,  cheese, 
eggs,  etc. — which  good  fortune  contributed  not  a  little  toward  re- 
storing us  to  cheerfulness  and  good  humor. 

October  1  (Friday).  Twenty-six  and  a  half  miles  were  left  behind, 
which  brought  us  to  the  first  branch  of  Grasshopper  Creek,  Very 
many  comfortable  farms  were  seen,  the  grounds  covered  with  thriv- 
ing crops.  We  crossed  the  third  and  second  branches  of  Grass- 
hopper Creek,  and  Walnut  Creek. 

October  2  (Saturday).  We  pitched  our  camp  below  Mount  Pleas- 
ant, a  neat  little  town  about  thirteen  miles  from  Fort  Leavenworth. 
The  day's  march  amounted  to  twenty  miles.  *The  road  presented 


46 

an  unusual  sight,  in  that  it  was  nearly  all  the  way  enclosed  between 
two  fences.  When  we  passed  over  this  road  on  our  march  to  I'tah, 
scarcely  more  than  a  do/en  farms  were  to  be  seen,  and  those  but 
lately  commenced;  now  we  are  astonished  to  see  the  country,  for 
about  forty  miles  from  Leaven  worth,  thiekly  settled  with  fine, 
thriving  1'arms,  neatly  built  houses,  arid  waving  fields  of  grain, 
enclosed  by  strong,  well  built  fences. 

October  3  (Sunday).  To-day  we  arrived  at  the  termination  of 
our  march — the  goal  that  has  been  so  anxiously  looked  Tor  and  in 
the  midst  of  a  general  excitement  in  the  meeting  of  friends,  and  the 
hurry  and  bustle  of  unpacking  the  wagons  and  carrying  their 
contents  into  our  old  quarters,  we  took  possession  of  our  rooms. 
every  one  laughing  and  talking  together,  exceedingly  delighted  to 
think  our  hardships  at  last  concluded.  The  evening  was  employed 
in  ridding  ourselves  of  tin-  soil  and  stains  of  our  long  march  ;  Un- 
well-worn prairie  uniform  being  speedily  cast  oft',  and  new  articles 
of  clothing,  perscveringly  husbanded  for  this  occasion,  as  <|iiickly 
taking  its  place. 

[End  of  narrative.] 


NOTE:   But  a  few  <J:iys  \\<-ic  spent  at    Fort    L<-;i\  i-nwort  li   In-fore  tin- 
resumed  the  eastward   movement,   by   boat    and   tniin,   sin-ivin^   :\\    \\Vst    Point 
on  the  12th  day  of  October,  1858. 

Iflfa 

The   Outward   March 989 

The    Return    March - 1,028J 

Extra  Marching  in   Work  of  Construction 62 

Aggregate    2,079Ji 


